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No. 24. 


July 7th, 1892. 


A/ ^ ^ 


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THE 


EXECUTIONER OE VENICE 


< 





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THE 


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The Executioner of Venice, 


CHAPTER I. 

THE WEAPON-ROOM. 

UR Story opens with a scene in an 
apartment in the house of Salbano 
Vecci, Chief Executioner of Venice? 
during the eighth century. 

This apartment was not large, nor 
was its ceiling lofty, yet there was 
much within its walls apt to chill with 
dread the hearts of the boldest. 

Salbano the Executioner was seated 
upon a stout w^ooden stool, and closely 
engaged in polishing a long, broad-bladed sword, one of 
the many formidable weapons belonging to his cruel 
and sanguinary office. 

He was a burly, powerfully framed man, with an 
enormous head and face, low-browed, sullen-featured, 

[ 7 ] 



8 


Hie Executioner of Venice. 


and with deep-set, wolfish eyes lighting- up his ferocious 
visage. His hair black, grizzly, coarse and thick, 
covered his great head like a close-fitting cap, while all 
the lower part of his face was hidden beneath a heavy 
beard and moustache trimmed so close that the hairs 
stuck out like bristling wire. 

“ There is a blur upon this blade,” he growled, as if 
speaking to himself and not to the old man who sat 
near him — a blur which I cannot efface, polish and 
furbish as I may.” 

“You need not waste time in trying, my .son,” said 
the old man, in a sharp, squeaking voice. “ It has been 
there for years. I know all about it, Salbano. It has 
been there ever since the sword smote off the head of 
the Tuscan duke.” 

This old man, a withered and wrinkled counterpart 
of the Executioner, was Rapal Vecci, the father of 
Salbano. For many years Rapal had filled the office 
now occupied by his son, but old age and increasing 
infirmities had finally forced him to resign the position 
he loved so well, and the dreadful office had descended 
to Salbano. 

The old man was sitting upon a stool like that occu- 
pied by his son, grasping with his gaunt and withered 
hands the helve of a large and peculiarly shaped axe. 
The massive blade of this formidable weapon of 
destruction rested upon the stone floor, while the old 
man stroked and patted the brass-studded handle as he 
spoke of it. 

“ I can barely lift the axe now,” he said, with a sigh. 
“ Ah for the good old days when I could flirt ye, Bright 
Lips, as a lady flirts a fan ! That’s all gone now. The 
poor old man is old, very old, and feeble, and though I 
must say, Salbano, that you are expert, very expert, 
my boy, thanks to my teaching, you can never equal 


The Weapon-Roont. 


9 


your father as he was. Oh,” he added, with a dismal 
groan, “ oh, that I must say, as he was /” 

“ I can cut off the head of a man as neatly as any 
executioner in Europe,” growled surly Salbano, with a 
glance towards a door at the rear of the apartment. 
^His attention had been attracted in that direction by 
the entrance of Sizera, his wife, who was dragging, 
rather than leading, into the room a beautiful girl just 
blooming into womanhood. 

We must first speak of Sizera, the wife of the Excu- 
tioner. She was far taller than her husband, but lean, 
bony and muscular. Great tangled curls of red hair 
twined about her long, snake-like neck and high, angular 
shoulders. Her skin was as livid as that of a corpse ; 
her features not simply repulsive but frightful in their 
mould and expression. Her eyes, from the skeleton- 
like emaciation of her face, seemed thrice as large as 
those of a human, and were of a pale, leaden color, 
gleaming only with a ferocious stare generally, but 
blazing with all the rage of a demon when she was 
angry. 

This woman, with the face of a skull, the complexion 
of a corpse, the eyes of a devil, fiercely clutched the 
delicate wrist of the lovely girl, whose features expressed 
both fear and loathing as the lean giantess dragged her 
into the room. 

“ Come in, you silly, obstinate minx !” screamed 
Sizera. “ You must learn to handle the implements by 
which your future husband is to earn his living, if for- 
tune does not turn up something better for him. Sit 
there, upon that stool, you perverse wench,” she con- 
tinued, as she forced the trembling girl upon a seat. 

“ Now ! now !” croaked old Rapal. “ What is the 
matter with the Queen of Roses, the Empress of Pinks, 
the Princess of Lilies ?” 


lO 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ I will tell you what is the matter,” replied Sizera, 
shaking her bony fists in the face of the shrinking 
maiden. “ This Fiorina, this beggar’s brat whom we 
picked up half-drowned when she was an infant — picked 
up out of the canal into which her miserable mother had 
cast her — this ungrateful Fiorina, who thinks because, 
people call her beautiful she is too pretty, too sweet, too 
nice, too delicate, too much of a lady to becomejthe wife 
of our son Balthazar, dares tell me that she does not 
wish to learn how to prepare the implements of the 
executioner for immediate use !” 

“ Eh ! what is that you say ?” exclaimed Salbano, 
angrily. 

Yes, it is true, Salbano,” replied Sizera. “ You told 
me that you had received an order from the Secretary 
of the Senate to see that all the implements of your 

office should be in readiness for immediate use ” 

“ He ! he !” laughed the ghastly-eyed Rapal, patting 
the handle of the immense axe. “ An order for all to 
be made ready ! Capital ! capital ! Then there is sport 
near at hand, eh ? Bravo ! All our family jewels to be 
rubbed up, eh? The sword to be polished and sharpened ! 
The axe to have a keen edge ! The dagger to be looked 
at and its point narrowly taken care of ! The quartering 
knife and the flaying knife to be honed to razor-like keen- 
ness. The hangman’s rope to be dusted, and stretched, 
and waxed ! The scourge to be well in order ! The cup 

of mercy to have its drink of hemlock and ” 

“ Hold your rattling tongue, you fool !” snapped Sizera, 
baring her long, fang-like teeth with a grin of rage. 
“ Let me tell Salbano what this pert Fiorina said. You 
told me of the urgent order, Salbano, and left me. 
‘ Now,’ thought I, ‘ is a good time for Fiorina to begin to 

learn how to help her future husband in his affairs ’ ” 

“ Right, wife,” said Salbano, with a sullen glance at 


The Weapon-Room, 


II 


Fiorina, who might be compared at that moment to an 
angel of beauty and purity beset by demons in an abode 
of devils. “ Fiorina is to be the wife of our son Baltha- 
zar, and as he is my first assistant, and will be, no doubt, 
Chief Executioner, after me, it is only right that she 
shall become familiar with everything belonging to the 
office. Well?” 

“ So I went to look for her,” continued Sizera. “And 
what do you suppose I found her doing ?” 

“ Admiring her pretty face in a mirror, no doubt, as 
she is always doing,” sneered Salbano. “ So many have 
told her that her black hair is divine, her eyes superb, 
her lips like cherries, her beauty fresher and fairer than 
that of any lady in Venice, that her head is turned. Too 
fair for Balthazar, the son of Salbano Vecci, the Execu- 
tioner.” 

“ No. I found her on her knees before a crucifix, 
praying.” 

“ On her knees before a crucifix, praying ! Ho ! ho ! 
the little hypocrite !” growled Salbano. 

“ It is true. I listened, for she did not hear me when 
I stole into her room. I heard her say — ‘ Oh, Son of the 
Holy Mother, save me ! save me from this dreadful fate I 
Oh, my God ! let me die this instant rather than become 
the wife of Balthazar.’” 

“ You heard her say that ?” roared Salbano, as if won- 
derstruck. “ She had the audacity to pray to heaven 
not to be made the wife of our dutiful son, Balthazar ?” 

“ Yes, and you may be sure that I at once put an end 
to such impious petitions,” replied Sizera. “ I cuffed 
the proud minx soundl}-. You may see how red her 
ears are now.” , 

The small and exquisitely shaped ears of that lovely 
drooping head were indeed red from the cruel violence 
of the tigress. A few drops of blood upon her snowy 


12 


The Executioner of Ve7i{ce. 


neck proved that the blows of the bony hand of Sizera 
had been brutally fierce. 

‘‘‘Come,’ said I; ‘we shall see what all your silly 
prayers can do. Come to the weapon-room and take a 
lesson which you should have learned by heart long- 
ago.’ So I took her by the shoulders and shook the 
minx until this fell from her bosom at my feet.” 

“ And what is that asked Salbano, as Sizera held 
up a piece of crumpled paper at arm’s length, as if it 
was some vile insect. 

“ It is a love-letter !” 

“ Ho ! A love-letter ! And who has had the insolence 
to write a love-letter to Fiorina ? Come, I am impatient 
to know, as I wish to hunt him up and strangle him on 
the spot. Is it a lord, or a scholar, or a gondolier ?” 

“ I do not know,” replied Sizera. “ Ah, what a sly 
wanton she is, this Fiorina ! See ! We have never sus- 
pected that she had a lover. When could .she have 
advanced so far ? Perhaps last year when we used to 
send her out to sell flowers ! No doubt, and the artful 
hypocrite has hidden it so cunningly until now. I will 
read it. Fortunately I have a little learning and can 
read. Listen “ 

“ My dearest Florina : — For nearly a year I have 
not seen you, except in my heart and in my dreams. 
There your beloved image has ever beamed my star of 
love, since the day when flrst we met. You said you 
loved me and would be my wife, and I will soon claim 
that promise. 

“ When we meet, I will tell you why I was forced to 
tear myself from Venice. I have heard of your peril, 
and I swear to rescue you. Keep good heart, for I will 
be with you very soon. 

“ Ever your faithful 


Robert.’ 


The W m pon-Roont. 


1 


“ There ! what say you to that ?” 

“ It is villainy, absolutely — it is atrocious villainy 
and conspiracy/’ said Rapal. “ But who is ‘ Robert ?” 

“Who hnows but this artful, ungrateful Fiorina,” 
cried Sizera, raising her fist, as if longing to beat the 
helpless girl. “ Oh,” she added, grinding the words 
between her great teeth, in a paroxysm of rage, “ if you 
were not so soon to be married to Balthazar, I would 
pound you into a jelly^I would bruise your pretty face 
into a mash. I would — I would !” she screamed, thrust- 
ing her fist into the pale, quivering face, and yearning to 
strike it, beat it, bruise it, tear it, while the froth and foam 
of ungovernable rage made her threats almost inaudible. 
“ But I will have my will with you hereafter, when 
Balthazar shall have tired of his bride — his unwilling 
bride — mind that, minx.” 

“ This ‘ Robert,’ whoever he is, will have to come 
very soon,” sneered Salbano, “for Fiorina shall wed 
Balthazar to-morrow.” 

“ Yes, and perhaps before to-morrow,” added Sizera. 
“ Here,” she continued, as she snatched a black coil of 
slender rope from a spike upon which it hung, “ this is 
the rope — the hangman’s rope. It needs dusting and 
waxing. Begin to learn your future duties with that.” 

With these words she tossed the rope at Fiorina ; but, 
as she used more force than was necessary, the rope 
passed high above the head of the poor girl, and fell 
like a lasso around the neck of old Rapal. 

The old man uttered a shriek of horror, and trembled 
as if a live and venomous serpent had encircled him in 
its fatal coils. 

“ Woman,” cried Salbano, “ see what you have done 
in your careless haste. You have noosed the old man as 
fairly as if he was to be hanged upon the instant.” 

“ Take it off — take it off !” screamed Rapal. Remem- 


H 


The Executioner of Venice, 


ber the executioner’s never false prophecy, ‘ If a 
hangman’s noose circles by chance the neck of anyone, 
that you will be surely hanged, unless some one takes 
it off.' Take it off. Sizer a.’' 

“ Not I ; for the prophecy also says that whoever 
takes off the rope removes the doom only to become its 
victim,” replied Sizera. 

“ Take it off, Salbano !” screamed Rapal, beating the 
floor with his feet. “ Mercy of heaven, take the curse 
of the rope from me !” 

“ Take it off yourself,” said Salbano. “ You’ve 
hanged many a poor fellow — enough, to have no fear 
of a rope.” 

‘‘Take it off, Salbano— take it off. Only the first 
part of the prophecy is ever true. Take it off, or I 
will curse you,” cried old Rapal, still beating the stony 
floor with his heels. 

“ You have cursed me more times than I have fingers 
and toes, old fool,” replied the Executioner, who was as 
superstitious as he was cruel. “ I’d rather be cursed 
than run the risk of being hanged. It is a death I 
abhor. Be patient — someone may chance to come in, 
and we will trick him to take it off.” 

“ I hope it may be someone whom I hate, so that the 
curse of the rope shall leave me to cling to him,” 
snarled Rapal, shuddering with terror, and yet rank 
with the venom of malice. 

“Since you may not have the rope,” said Sizera, “ I 
will give you Love Taps, Fiorina, to attend to. The 
lashes are in a snarl.” 

That which this horrible woman called by the pet 
name of “ Love Taps ” was a large whip, the handle of 
which was a stout staff bound around with strips of 
leather and wire. The lashes were ten in number, each 
lash fabricated of minute links of steel. 


The Weapon-Room. 


15 


Sizera flourished this formidable implement of tor- 
ture with an ease which proved her practice in its 
uses. 

“Give it to me — give it to me,” cried old Rapal, 
stretching out his hands. “ It used to be my favorite 
jewel. I am strong enough to lay on a good blow 
yet.” 

“ It is too heavy for such a grass-hopper,” said Sizera, 
tossing the scourge at him. 

He caught it cleverly by the handle and swung it 
over his head, his eyes sparkling with devilish glee. 

“ Many a stout blow have I dealt with this — many a 
white back have I streaked and striped in the good old 
days of my prime ! He, he ! see, I can strike hard yet,” 
croaked the old rascal, as he swung the lashes with 
much of his former expertness. 

“ Oh, yes,” sneered Sizera, “ you might hurt a woman 
— not a woman like me,” she added, delighting to irri- 
tate the old man as she delighted to irritate everybody. 
“Not a woman like me,” she said, beating her great 
fists upon her tough breast — a breast as hard, as muscu- 
lar as that of a prize-fighter. “ You might hurt a deli- 
cate, dainty dame, who screams at the sight of a spider 
— an ugly spider, like old, withered, useless Rapal 
Vecci.” 

“ Do tie her up, Salbano, do !” pleaded the enraged 
old man, while his toothless jaws worked with his wrath 
and venom as if chewing a tough morsel he longed to 
swallow. “ Tie her up, and let me at her. Perhaps I 
may tell you where my gold is hid, if you will just let 
me give her a few cracks. I dreamed last night that I 
should live to lash her to ribbons upon a scaffold on the 
great piazza of the Winged Lion. And that reminds 
me of something, Salbano— I have a favor to ask.” 

“ You may ask a thousand, old man, and not gain 


i6 


The Executioner of Venice, 


one,” replied Salbano, in a sullen tone. “ You want to 
take my work — my spirit — from my hands. You were 
not very generous to me in that matter when you were 
Chief Executioner and I your assistant. I am ten times 
more liberal to Balthazar than you were to me. I often • 
let him have a chance with the axe or the sword — you 
never did, to me. True, if some moneyless, ragged 
fellow of a noble, who had not a ducat, was to be lopped, 
you’d let me try my hand.” 

“ Consider the deprivation it always was to me, Sal- 
bano. It was better than meat and drink to me to dis- 
charge my official duties at all times.” 

“ Silence ! you held the office for years, old man, and 
made much money. Where you have hoarded that 
money, the devil only knows. What with the regular 
pay of the office — ” 

” Yes, and the fine plunder he got,” put in Sizera, 
enviously. “ The garments of gold and silver lace, the 
rich silks, and fine velvets, and shining satins, the golden 
ducats, the hidden jewels given him to strike but once 
and end the agony.” 

“ Will you keep your meddlesome tongue to your- 
self ?” screamed Rapal, slashing at her with the scourge. 

“ This is none of your affair. Remember, my son, how 
I reared you to be what you are, my boy. I made you 
a man and a slayer of men. People tremble when they 
see you. ‘ There is Salbano, the Chief Executioner !’ 
they whisper, with white lips, my lad,— with white and 
trembling lips. ‘That is Salbano, the son of Rapal. 
Old Rapal taught him how to wield the great axe of 
execution until he can behead a bee as it buzzes around 
a rose ; taught him, did Rapal his forefather, how to 
swing the great two-handed sword, loaded as it is with 
lead and quicksilver, until Salbano, at every stroke, can 
sheer off the head of a dancing butterfly. Taught him 


The Weapon-Room. 


17 


how to hold the dagger to reach, at a thrust, the heart 
of the sleeping condemned ; and how to manage the 
hangman’s rope on the scaffold, or in the midnight 
dungeon ; how to make long and sharp the death- 
struggle for stifled breath, or to end all pain in an 
instant ; taught him how to handle the scourge, with its 
lashes of steel, so as to make them rip, and cut, and tear, 
and mangle, and bite clean to the white bones under 
the quivering flesh — ho 1 to rend off the muscles as a 
wolf tears to pieces a lamb.” 

“Well, what are you after, with all this ?” asked Sal- 
bano, much mollified by this praise of his abilities. 
“What is the favor ? You know I have sworn that you 
shall never swing the axe nor sword again.” 

“ I know. But just as a favor, Salbano, consider that 
my infirmities have deprived me of all those official 
pleasures. I must have, unknowingly, committed some 
great sin to be thus punished in being deprived of those 
pleasures so dear to me. But, just as a favor, now do, 
if there is anyone to be hanged just let me fix the noose, 
crack a cheerful joke in his ear, spring the trap, and let 
him go off smiling. Say yes, my lad. It will make the 
poor old man young again — it will.” 

Rapal pleaded thus, with eyes which sparkled with 
fiendish eagerness to slay, rubbing his skinny hands 
briskly together. 

“ Perhaps I may,” replied Salbano, “ as I heard a 
rumor that the Senate has smelt out a conspiracy.” 

“ Good news !” cried Rapal, clapping his hands smartly 
together, “ then we shall have rare pickings and plun- 
derings — good news ! What with piiblic beheadings 
and hangings, and strangling in dungeons, and tortur- 
ings in prison, and all that, we may be blessed with a 
season of bounteous plenty in the way of our noble pro- 
fession, As exempt and honorably distinguished exe- 


1 8 ^ The Executioner of Venice. 


cutioner, I have the right to be present at all these gay 
sports.” 

“Gay sports !” thought Fiorina, as her ears took in all 
this hofrid glee of old Rapal. “ Oh, heaven most 
merciful, deliver me from this den of tigers !” 


CHAPTER 11. 

COUNT ROBERT. 

Sizera now interrupted Rapal by calling out : 

“ The minx must have the scourge — or, wait, she 
shall take the rope from your neck. Father Rapal. 
Fiorina, go take that rope from him and bring it to me.” 

“The hangman's rope.? Ho ; I can never, never 
touch that !” cried the poor girl, covering her beautiful 
face with her fair hands. “ Ah, Mother Sizera, beat me, 
starve me, but do not make me touch the accursed rope !” 

“ I say she shall not put so much as the tip of her 
finger upon the rope — at least, not while it is around my 
neck I” screamed old Rapal. 

“And I say that she shall,” retorted Sizera. “ I 
reared her ; I adopted her ; she’s mine. She shall obey 
me. So take that rope off this instant, or I will twist 
your ears off, minx.” 

She grasped the ears she threatened with her great 
scaly thumbs and fingers as she spoke. 

“ Take it off ! Get up and do as I bid you. Quick !” 

“ I will not touch it !” replied Fiorina, firmly, though 
her pale face flushed with pain. “ Nor will I, so help 
me heaven and all the saints, ever wed your son, Bal- 
thazar, whom I hate, despise and detest.” 


Count Robert, 


19 


“ You hear her ? She will not. She defies me. Shall 
I yield my authority ? Shall she not obey ?” 

Of course. Make her obey,” said Salbano. 

“ She must obey, of course, in the matter of the mar- 
riage,” said old Rapal, for I have had that fixed for 
years. But I say she shall not touch this rope while it 
is around my neck.” 

“Old perverse fool ! You will not take it off your- 
self, nor allow anyone else to take it off.” 

“Yes, Salbano, you may, or Sizera. I have my 
wishes as well as Sizera, and Fiorina shall not take it off. 
Fiorina is very foolish to say that she will not marry 
my grandson, Balthazar ; but I say she shall not touch 
the rope so long as it is around my neck.” 

With these words he arose to his feet, as if he appre- 
hended an immediate attack from Sizera, with whose 
violent temper he was very well acquainted. 

She rushed at the old man with the intention of 
wresting the whip from his hands to strike Fiorina ; but 
he was on his guard, and her grasp missed the handle, 
while Rapal whirled it swiftly around his head and 
brought the ten lashes smartly across her back. 

She uttered a cry of pain and renewed the attempt. 
Rapal evaded it again, and again slashed the virago 
vigorously across the shoulders. 

“ So you see, I can wield a very good blow yet !” cried 
Rapal. 

Sizera instantly grasped the wrists of Fiorina and 
dragged her towards Rapal. The gigantic strength of 
the executioner's wife easily overcame the feeble 
though resolute resistance of the maiden, who firmly 
clenched her small white hands to prevent all entangle- 
ment of her fingers with the rope. 

“ You shall take it off !” cried the brutal Sizera, as 


20 


The Executioner of Venice, 


she dragged the delicate girl towards Rapal. “ If you 
will not grasp it, I will force your hands upon it.” 

“ Then you and not I will take it off,” said Fiorina, 
struggling. 

“ She shall not touch the rope while it is around my 
neck !” screamed old Rapal, darting aside as swiftly as 
his old legs could serve him. “ Whoever takes it off 
will assuredly be hanged !” 

Salbano roared with hoarse laughter as he viewed the 
struggle, shouting while he clapped his hands and 
stamped his feet. 

At him, Sizera ! Good dodge, old grasshopper ! 
You are as active as a cricket. Ho ! You missed it 
there, Sizera ! What a leap ! You excel the clown in 
the circus 1 Pull back, Fiorina ! Ten to one that Sizera 
wins the game.” 

The cruel executioner, whose tiger-heart knew no 
pity, was delighted to see the excited faces of the three 
contestants, each expressing different passions. 

Sizera’a lean and bony visage was swollen, distorted, 
and red with rage ; the beautiful features of Fiorina 
expressed intense disgust and desperate resolution ; 
while the wrinkled face of old Rapal writhed with 
the pangs of superstitious horror and fear, most of which 
arose from a terrible crime committed by him years 
before. 

While the struggle was still going on, and when 
Sizera had forced the old man into a corner and was 
about to triumph, a door of the apartment was thrown 
open and four men entered. 

The one in advance was a young man, clad in the 
uniform and wearing the insignia of a captain of the 
Venetian war-galleys. His three followers wore the 
same uniform, while their badges declared them to be 
officers of a rank inferior to his. 


Coufit Robert. 


21 


As the glance of the captain comprehended the scene, 
he uttered a short cry of angry amazement, and, bound- 
ing to the side of Fiorina, grasped the throat of Sizera,, 

“ Off, hag I” he said, throttling her severely and then 
hurling her against the wall. “ She-wolf of Venice, if 
you have forgotten me I have not forgotten you, nor the 
cruelties of your lair ! Wretch, how dare you thus treat 
a helpless maiden ?” 

The rescue was so unexpected that Sizera for a 
moment could only stare and gasp for breath. The 
violence with which the stranger had tossed her aside 
had sorely bruised her bones and confused her thoughts ; 
but the sound of his voice and his expressions made her 
pause at the very instant in which she was about to 
spring at him. 

In fact, she had already seized a heavy iron hammer 
— one of the executioner’s implements of torture — to 
attempt a desperate charge upon the stranger, when 
some sudden emotion caused her to let fall the weapon 
and recoil towards her husband, while her eyes still 
glared with rage mingled with wonder. 

Salbano, whose brutish laughter had ceased as the 
stranger entered, sprang from his stool when he saw 
his wife so rudely assaulted, grasping the g|eat two- 
handed sword with both hands and poising it to cut 
down the intruder at a single blow. 

More rapid than he, the three followers of the captain 
drew their swords and threw themselves before the 
executioner. 

Old Rapal, after a glance and then a stare at the cap- 
tain, smothered a cry of surprise, and crouched in the 
corner to which he had been driven by Sizera. 

Fiorina had immediately clung to the captain’s left 
arm and buried her face in his bosom. 

“ What does this mea:n, sirs ?” cried Salbano, pausing, 


22 


The Executioner of Venice. 


as the three swords flashed in his eyes. “ 1 am a high 
officer of the Venetian State, and it is expressly enjoined 
by law that no man shall enter the house of the Chief 
Executioner without his permission or an order extra- 
ordinary from the noble Council. Take care, my sirs, 
or this intrusion may cost you days of sorrow and loss 
of your right hands.” 

“ What says the law ?” croaked old Rapal, gathering 
courage as he marked the bold bearing of his son. 
“What says the law? — ‘Whosoever shall insult the 
Chief Executioner of the State by word, written or 
spoken, shall be flned a thousand ducats ; and his 
tongue, in default thereof, shall be cut out and burned 
before his face by the Chief Executioner — ’ ” 

“Silence, wrinkled hound !” cried the captain. 
“ Silence, or I will pin your withered rascality to the 
wall. Stand aside,- gentlemen, and let Salbano face 
me.” 

The three officers moved aside, holding their swords 
ready, however, for instant service, and the executioner 
fixed his fierce eyes upon the handsome yet scornful 
face of the Venetian captain. 

He stared long and steadily. An expression of sur- 
prise and anger gradually overspreading his swarthy, 
savage features as he recognized the stranger. 

“ Ho ! my runaway son, Lorenzo,” he growled. “ So 
you have returned at last ?” 

“ Liar !” replied the captain, with a face of disgust. 
“ I am no son of yours, Salbano, nor is my name 
Lorenzo.” 

“ You are Lorenzo !” screamed Sizera, who had 
placed her gaunt form at her hu.sband’s side. “ You 
are our son Lorenzo, who fifteen years ago deserted us 
and fled to the Turks. Renegade and apostate ! What 
effrontery ! To dare enter a house you disgraced 


Count Robert, 


23 


“The house I disgraced! The house of the two 
wolves of Venice !” replied the young captain, with 
cutting scorn. 

“ There is no doubt of it. You are Lorenzo," snapped 
out old Rapal from his corner, “ I recognized your 
defiant face the instant I clapped my old eyes on it. 
Don’t you remember your poor old grandfather, 
Lorenzo ? How you have grown ! Why, you are fully 
six feet, if I’m an inch. I never could forget you, 
Lorenzo." 

“ Nor tell the truth, old Rapal," said the captain. “ I 
am he whom you called Lorenzo." 

“Ah ! he admits it," cried Sizera. 

“ I am he whom you called Lorenzo, but not your son, 
she- wolf. Great heaven ! if I were to dream that a drop 
of my blood was tainted by a drop of yours, Salbano, or of 
yours, Sizera, I'd turn Turk and ask for instant annihil- 
ation. You have a son, Balthazar, and as dog loves dog, 
you may be proud of him. Fifteen years ago, at the age 
of ten, I fled from your cruelty. Scoundrel Salbano, the 
scars of that lash may yet be seen upon my body — ’’ 

“ If you are Lorenzo," interrupted Salbano, while his 
eyes flashed with fury — “ and you are we know, and 
you admit — and if you deny that you are my son, pray 
tell us whose son you are." 

“Not yours, bloodhound — not yours I Rather than 
that I would be the meanest reptile of earth !’’ 
exclaimed the captain. “ You and your wife, or that 
villainous old man, stole me in my childhood and 
claimed me for your own. Who I was when you got 
possession of me, you doubtless know very well. Who 
I am now you shall learn. Tell this brute to whom he 
speaks, gentlemen." 

Each officer took off his plumed hat as one of their 
number bowed and said : 


24 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ To his High Excellency, Count Robert, Chief 
Admiral of all the fleets of Venice.” 

On hearing the name and title of the pretended cap- 
tain, Salbano turned pale and trembled. This man, 
whom he claimed as his son — this man, whom he had 
brutally lashed when a boy — was then a powerful noble, 
scarcely second in rank to the Doge of Venice. 

Often had Salbano heard of the great exploits of a 
Captain Robert da Velli in the Turkish seas, and that 
this Captain Robert, as he was usually called, had risen 
from the rank of common seaman to that lately given 
him by the Venetian Senate ; that the daring seaman 
and warrior had been made a Count of the Holy Empire, 
and Chief Admiral of the fleets of Venice ; but never had 
Salbano dreamed that he whom he called Lorenzo, his 
son, was the most famous sailor and commander of that 
day. 

The young admiral was a man of great manly beauty, 
tall and powerful in frame, yet graceful in air and 
gesture. His eyes and brow were those of a man accus- 
tomed to command in times of danger. 

Sizera, as much amazed as her husband, and trem- 
bling with guilty terror, knew not what to say ; while 
old Rapal crowded himself as closely as possible into 
his corner. 

Fiorina, however, on hearing her protector addressed 
as above, withdrew herself timidly from his arm, gazed 
into his face for an instant, and then, sighing deeply, 
fixed her eyes upon the floor, saying : 

“ I did not know that he w^hom I loved was a great 
lord.” 

“ Were he a king he would be proud of that love, 
Fiorina,” he said, gently. 

‘‘ You are too high-born to wed a nameless orphan 
girl,” she replied, in tones audible only to him. “ You 


Count Robert. 


25 


are too great and powerful to stoop to wed me, and you 
are too noble to wrong me, even did my love for you 
make me forget my pride.” 

“ High-born !” he said. “ Alas ! I am almost as igno- 
rant as you, Fiorina, of my birth, so in that we are 
equals. As for my greatness, I won that with my 
sword, and surely I may share it with you whom I love 
with all my soul. I have come here to rescue you from 
these wretches. I left Venice when but a boy, and I 
have returned but once since then till now. When in 
Venice, a year ago, I met you selling flowers, and my 
heart flew to yours the instant I saw you.” 

“ And mine to yours, my lord,” said Fiorina. “ Yet 
then you said you were but a simple sailor.” 

“ So I am still, Fiorina, at heart. For weeks we met 
nor asked any question but one, ‘ Do you love me ?’ and 
the answer was always the same, ‘ Yes, forever.’ Sud- 
den and imperative orders from the Senate hurried me 
back to the Turkish seas, nor had I time to send you 
a parting message — no, nor did I know where you 
lived. Yesterday I returned to Venice, and on inquiry, 
I learned that my beautiful flower-girl lived in the 
—house of Salbano, the Executioner ; and it was reported 
that Balthazar, Salbano’s son, was about to wed her. 
You received my note ?” 

“ A little girl gave it to me this morning, my lord.” 

“ My lord ! Call me Robert as you used to do, Fiorina. 
I have come to rescue you from these wolves. Ah ! I 
know them well. For years they maltreated me, often 
in this very room.” 

“ I have often heard them say that they once had a 
son named Lorenzo, who fled from them and perished 
at sea.” 

Old Rapal now spoke ; for he had overheard the 
whispered words of the lovers as they stood near him. 


26 


The ExecMtio7ier of Venice, 


“ My lord — for, though you are miy grandson, as can 
be proved, yet your fame and • rank demand the title, 
even from us — it is well known in Venice that Lorenzo 
who fled from us, was the son of Salbano and Sizera. 
You are, you admit, that Lorenzo, and therefore you 
are the son of Salbano. Still, as your lordship has 
achieved rank and power, we cannot presume to give 
your word the lie, nor force you to acknowledge us as 
your parents.” 

“ I think not,” said the admiral, with haughty disgust. 
‘‘ Go on. Let me hear all that you have to say.” 

“ Were the matter placed before the vSenate, my lord,” 
continued Rapal, humbly, it would undoubtedly be 
adjudged that you are our son ; but though you despise 
us, we are proud to see our son so great a man, and our 
love for you ” 

“Your love for me? Hypocrite!” exclaimed the 
admiral, scornfully. 

— “ Our love will not seek to mar your enjoyment of 
your greatness. Only remember that it is you who cast 
us off, not we who cast you off.” 

“ It is well for you, Rapal, that you are so old, or I 
would strike you down,” said the admiral, fiercely. 
“ Know that, although I have not learned yet whose 
son I am, I have learned, and can prove, that I am not 
the son of Salbano, as both he and 5^ou may ere long 
find, to your cost ; so no more of that.” 

Saibano and Sizera here exchanged glances of alarm. 
The last words of the admiral proved that he had dis- 
covered much which they believed known only to them- 
selves. It was, therefore, dangerous to press their claim 
to his paternity in public. 

How or when he had discovered that he was not their 
son was a mystery full of peril to them. If he had 
learned so much, he might discover more— discover all. 


Count Robert, 


27 


Old Rapal, too, displayed some uneasiness, and his 
tone became still more humble. Perhaps the Admiral 
already knew all, and might not leave that apartment 
without ordering his arrest. The fact that the rope was 
still about his neck — the fact that it had been tossed 
there — added to his guilty fears, so that he dared say no 
more of his relationship. 

“ Now tell me, child-stealers,” said the Admiral sternly, 
“ from whom you stole this maiden. You dare not claim 
her as your daughter.” 

“ Not our daughter by blood,” replied Salbano, “ but. 
our adopted daughter. We rescued her when she was 
an infant from the canal into which her unnatural 
mother had thrown her.” 

What became of that mother ? Who was she ?” 

“ I do not know her name. She disappeared from 
Venice. As we reared the child, she is ours, and she is 
also the betrothed of our son, Balthazar. Get to your 
room, Fiorina, nor dare to leave it without my permis- 
sion.” 

“ And I will go with the bold wench to see that she 
obeys,” said Sizera, advancing as if to again seize the 
terrified girl. 

“ Oh ! save me, Robert ! save me, my lord, from this 
cruel woman !” cried Fiorina, springing to the side of 
the admiral. 

“ Back, woman !” said the latter to Sizera. You 
shall not lay your hands again upon Fiorina. I am 
ready to answer to the Senate for what I do.” 

“ What says the law ?” began old Rapal, but the 
Admiral gave him a terrible glance, saying, at the same 
time : 

Wretch ! you may have speedy reason to ask, ‘ What 
says the law ?’ Come, gentlemen, let us depart.” 

“ What ! you really dare beard the law, and rob me of 


28 


The Executioner of Venice, 


my daughter T said Salbano. “ Take care what you do, 
Sir Admiral. I am also an officer of the State, jealously 
protected in my rights. Ah, Balthazar and others,” he 
added, as a tall and unusually powerful man entered, 
followed by six or eight fellows whose liveries declared 
them to be underlings of the Venetian prison, and there- 
fore subject to the authority of the Chief Executioner. 

Guard the doors, fellows !” shouted Salbano. “ Let 
no one pass out. Now, Lord Robert, dare defy the law 
of Venice, and attempt to rob her Chief Executioner in 
•his own house.” 


CHAPTER III. 

BALTHAZAR, THE EXECUTIONER’S SON. 

Balthazar, the son of Salbano, might with truth be 
called a giant in size, for he towered fully half a head 
above anyone there, and Admiral Robert was a very 
tall man. 

But the Admiral was perfect in form, while the frame 
of the son of the Executioner seemed as if it had 
been carelessly made up. His arms were disproportion- 
ately long, tall as he was ; his legs short and bowed 
greatly outward ; his shoulders of unequal height ; his 
feet and hands enormously large. 

The face and head which topped this tower of deform- 
ity suited well its shape. It was the head of Salbano 
with the face of Sizera — a combination of the tiger and 
the serpent. 

Balthazar was proud of his ugliness ; he gloried in it 
as a woman glories in her beauty ; he boasted of it a5 a 
man boasts of his strength. 


Balthazar^ the Executioner' s Son, 


29 


As his followers hastily obeyed the commands of his 
father, he rolled his large, hideous eyes about the apart- 
ment until they fell upon the crouching form of old 
Rapal, who, foreseeing strife, made himself as small as 
possible. 

“ Tell some of the knaves to take this rope from my 
neck,” screamed the old man, whose selfish nature would 
not allow him to forget the dreadful prophecy. 

What means all this ?” demanded Balthazar, moving 
towards Rapal, his deformed legs swaying his ungainly 
bulk from side to side as he stepped. “ Why is this rope 
around your neck, grandfather ? Has she been teasing 
you V 

“ Don’t touch the rope, Balthazar,” cried Salbano. 

Remember the prophecy.” 

“A fig for that and all other prophesies,” replied Bal- 
thazar, snatching off the rope and tossing it upon the 
spike from which Sizera had first taken it. 

The rope rebounded, slipped from the spike, and fell 
in a coil around the long neck of Sizera, who chanced 
to be standing immediately under the spike. 

The fiend is in the rope this day !” shrieked Sizera, 
quivering with the same superstitious terror that had 
shaken the bones of old Rapal. Take it off, dear father 
Rapal !” she said, imploringly. 

“ May I die if I do !” snapped the delighted old man, 
rubbing his hands with glee. “ He ! he ! it has come 
home to the right one at last — at last, by all the saints !” 

With this he began a feeble dance of unspeakable joy, 
which so infuriated Sizera, that, forgetting the prophecy 
in her rage, she snatched the rope from her neck, and 
hurled it in a lump at Rapal’s head. 

He dodged it nimbly, and it fell near him, where it 
remained like a long serpent in coil. 

Balthazar now fixed his eyes upon the Admiral, around 


30 


7'he Executioner of Venice. 


whom the three naval officers were standing, sword in 
hand, as if awaiting the orders of their chief. 

The Admiral did not seem at all discomposed by the 
action of Salbano, and, as Balthazar gazed at him, said 
aloud and scornfully : 

“Yes, that is Balthazar, as hideously ugly as he was 
fifteen years ago. I marvel that he has escaped the 
gallows till now. So this is the ill-shapen monster to 
whom these wolves would wed you, Fiorina V’ 

Fiorina did not dare to glance at Balthazar. His eyes 
had ever been a terror to her — his face and form a dis- 
gust. She shuddered and clung to her lover. 

“Who is this, father?” cried Balthazar, in a voice 
which at one breath was the deep, hoarse growl of Sal- 
bano, and, at the next, the shrill, cat-like yell of Sizera. 

“ There is something in his face which seems familiar 
to me, yet I cannot place him. Who is he, and why 
does Fiorina cling to him?” 

“ Don’t you recognize him ?” exclaimed Sizera. “ Look 
at him well. ‘A cat may stare at a king,’ I think. It 
is that runaway, that ungrateful Lorenzo, who never 
would play with you because he said he was nobler and 
handsomer than you. Don’t you remember Lorenzo ?” 

“ Ah, I recognize him now,” replied Balthazar, as a 
scowl of hate darkened his ugly face. “He used to 
strike me because I called him brother. But why does 
Fiorina, my betrothed wife, cling to him ? What is he 
to her, or she to him ? Tell me that. Do you think I 
care for his captain’s uniform ? Bah ! Last month I 
hanged a captain of the fleet for theft, by command of 
the noble Senate.” 

“ She clings to him, Balthazar, because he is her lover,” 
said Salbano. 

Balthazar uttered a cry of rage, and sprang towards 


Balthazar, the Executioner's Son, 


31 


the great axe which 'lay near. Old Rapal, however, 
still crouching in his corner, screamed out : 

“ Take care ! What says the law ? ^ The great axe 
of execution shall not be used except for the beheading 
of those condemned by the noble Senate of Venice !’ ” 

Balthazar let fall the axe at these words and drew the 
short, heavy sword he wore at his side, and at the same 
instant the Admiral, who watched him-- narrowly, 
flashed his own sword from its sheath. 

“ I am Chief Admiral of the fleets of Venice. Oppose 
me if you dare !” 

With these words the Admiral drew his left arm 
more closely about Fiorina’s waist and ordered those at 
the door to give him instant and unmolested egress. 

“Stand to your posts!” thundered Salbano, fiercely. 
“ How do we know that this man in the uniform of a cap- 
tain is an admiral ? How that he is even a captain ? 
It is all a cunning trick, backed by these knaves, to 
steal away my adopted daughter, the betrothed wife of 
my son.” 

“ Ho !” roared Balthazar, “ does he claim to be Count 
Robert da Velli ? Tell me — does he ?” 

“ Yes, and no doubt he lies,” replied Sizera. 

“ Then cut him down I cut him down !” cried Bal- 
thazar, flourishing his sword, yet very careful not to 
approach within reach of the Admiral. “ He is a 
declared traitor ! A reward is offered for his head, dead 
or alive. Not two hours since, the Council met to cun- 
sult upon an accusation against Count Robert, Chief 
Admiral of all the fleets of Venice, for having negoti- 
ated with the Turks for the surprisal and sacking of 
Venice. The charges were sustained and the order for 
his arrest, dead or alive, sent forth.” 

“ Good news !” croaked old Rapal. “ That is why we 


32 


The Executioner of Venice. 


received orders to have all our family jewels rubbed up. 
Are any others implicated ?” 

“ A score or more, but — ” 

“A score or more!” cried Rapal, snatching up the 
rope, and hobbling towards a small closet. “ Give me 
the wax, the oil ! hi ! a score or more 1 then I’ll have a 
chance. A score or more ! Perhaps two score 1 What 
a bounteous season — ” 

“ Has it leaked out who makes this accusation "i" 
demanded the Admiral, haughtily. 

“It has a strong arm and an able head to urge it,” 
replied Balthazar. “ So, my bold sea-hawk, you are 
Admiral no longer. The noble Council made quick 
work with all your greatness. Your new-born title was 
erased from the roll of those Venice delights to honor, 
and you are a declared traitor. At him, men, ! A thou- 
sand golden ducats are offered for him dead, three thou- 
sand for him alive !” 

“ As officer of the State, I command you to arrest 
this traitor,” said Salbano, perceiving that his under- 
lings hesitated. 

They had good cause to hesitate. The fame of the 
personal prowess of Count Robert had been the admira- 
tion and wonder of Venice for years. He had achieved 
many a hard-fought and bloody victory in the Turkish 
seas, and report had magnified his deeds into miracles. 
Fame said that Count Robert, single-handed, had once 
swept a score of armed Moslems into the sea. With a 
single galley, he and a brave crew, with three of his 
favorite captains, had boldly sailed into the harbor of 
Constantinople, defying a powerful fleet, deriding the 
Sultan and burning many ships. 

Fame said he was a lion in battle, and worshipped by 
all Venetian sailors. 

They hesitated, therefore, for the three powerful and 


Balthazar, the Ji xeczitioner s Son. 


33 


well-armed companions of the Admiral were doubt- 
less those three favorite captains, for all that they wore 
the insignia of inferior officers. 

They were bold enough when they had unarmed men 
to deal with, but they exchanged glances of fear as they 
marked the bronzed and haughty faces of these four 
warriors of the sea. 

“ It is great Count Robert,” said one to his comrade, 

. “ and no doubt the others are the famous three captains 
who are ever near him in peril — Andrea, Gaspardo and 
Siffredi. The four are a match for a hundred of us.” 

“ Show me a warrant under the hand of the Secretary 
of the Senate,” remarked the A dmiral, “and I may yield.” 

“ There is a warrant for your arrest, and for your 
three captains : Andrea, Siffredi and Gaspardo,” cried 
Balthazar. 

“ For negotiating with the Turks ?” demanded the 
I Admiral. 

^ “ For that and conspiring to overthrow the present 

I Senate.” 

“ So there is a traitor somewhere,” whispered the 
I Admiral to Andrea. 

5 “ Or the malignity of some secret enemy, my lord,” 

j replied Andrea. “ To charge us with love for the Turks 
i is laughable ; but there may be some truth in the 
remainder of the charge, since—” 

“ Silence ! These scoundrels may hear you and use 
your words against us. As for me, since the noble 
Senate has seen fit to condemn me to death unheard, I 
: will not be arrested alive,” said the Admiral. 

“ Nor we, my lord,” replied Captain Andrea. “ Yet, 

: encumbered with the maiden, we may be overcome.” 
i “ What, by a dozen or less poltroons like those tallow- 
faced rascals who guard the doors ? Our barge and its 
crew of twelve stout sailors is at the quay before this 


34 


The Exec7ttio7ier of Venice, 


house, and prepared to aid us. I anticipated resistance, 
and warned the crew to be on the alert. If we are 
arrested we are lost, and all our plans fall with us. We 
must escape to the fleet in the harbor at once. Gas- 
pardo, do you charge upon those four fellows at the 
rear door ; force your way into the hall. The first win- 
dow on the right overlooks the quay. Away with 
you !” 

Captain Gaspardo, with a shout like the peal of a 
trumpet, sprang towards the door indicated by the 
Admiral, and his first blow laid low one of the under- 
lings who was less rapid in giving passage. 

In a moment after, a shrill whistle rang sharply 
through the house. 

The sudden rush of one from the group surprised 
Salbano, who was. accustomed to attack his victims only 
when they were bound and helpless ; yet as he saw his 
guards give way he uttered a roar of rage, and swept 
the heavy, two-handed sword aloft, intending to strike 
off at least one head, and that one the loftiest. 

Had the head of the Admiral been adjusted for execu- 
tion, no doubt the furious yet well-aimed stroke would 
have sheared it off in a style which would have 
delighted old Rapal, who appeared to enjoy the turn 
affairs had taken. 

But the great blade merely whistled over the Admiral’s 
plumed cap as he stooped nimbly, and ere heavy Sal- 
bano could strike again, Count Robert’s sword had 
twice pierced his arms, right and left. 

“ So vile a wretch must not die by my hand,” said | 
the count, as the wounded Executioner roared with I 
pain and let fall his sword. 

“ Come on, ill-shapen Balthazar, and arrest Count 
Robert,” he added, scornfully, as the cowardly monster 
flourished his sword and grimaced at a safe distance. 


Balthazar y the Executiofier s Son, 


35 


“At him, cowards!” cried Salbaiio, to whose aid 
Sizera had flown. “ I will have every one of you 
hanged for cowardice.” 

“ By me 1” screamed old Rapal, shaking the rope 
at the hesitating underlings. “ I’ll do the job for the 
lot.” 

“ Better be slain by the sword of Count Robert than 
be hanged by devil Rapal !” said one of ihe underlings, 
more valiant than the others. “ Come, lads,, it is death 
anyway. At them !” 

He rushed at the count as he concluded, followed 
reluctantly by his comrades. 

“ Fall back, poor devils !” said the Admiral, knocking 
down the foremost with the hilt of his sword. “You 
are too cheap for me, and too dear to your wives to die 
in behalf of Salbano.” 

The astonishing ease with which the Admiral and his 
two friends parried the awkward blows and thrusts of 
•their assailants, seeming to disdain to strike in return, 
appalled the underlings. They fell baek, muttering to 
each other : 

“ These are devils or magicians, and not men.” 

Salbano, smarting from his wounds, unable to 
encourage them by his example, stamped with rage and 
poured forth a torrent of curses. 

Meanwhile, the Admiral and his party had gradually 
drawn nearer to the door leading into the hall where 
he was met by Captain Gaspardo at the head of the 
('.rew of the barge. 

These sailors, veterans of the sea and many a fierce 
sea-fight, no sooner entered the room than they formed 
a cordon of bristling steel around the Admiral, at once 
rendering his capture impossible by the underlings of 
the Executioner. 

“ Were I to speak the word, Salbano,” said the 


3 ^ 


The Executioner of Vefiice, 


Admiral, as his sailors closed around him, “ these men 
would cut you and yours to pieces. You, Sizera, 
Balthazar, and Rapal, all deserve death, but I disdain 
to crush such vermin.” 

“ The time may come. Lord Robert,” replied Salbano 
in a sullen tone, “ when you will crave from me the 
boon of instant death as you writhe and groan upon the 
rack.” 

“You dare to threaten me with the horrors of that 
torture-chamber, over which your devilish nature 
delights to preside ?”* exclaimed the Admiral sternly. 
“ Look to it that you are not, ere long, stretched upon 
your own rack of torment. As for that misshapen 
knave, Balthazar, I have not yet punished him. Seize 
him, men ! Bind him with that rope.” 

The cowardly, though ferocious, Balthazar fell upon 
his knees as several of the sailors sprang towards him. 
The huge wretch had not the courage of a hen, but 
roared for mercy as the sailors speedily bound his 
enormous hands behind him. 

“ See that no one leaves the room to alarm those 
without,” commanded the Admiral. 

Those who had followed Balthazar into the weapon- 
room had huddled into a corner, like frightened sheep, 
when the sailors rushed in. 

They clustered about old Rapal, as if they thought 
he might be some protection ; while that aged mis- 
creant carefully hid himself behind them, when he saw 
that the Admiral was about to punish Balthazar. 

Lord Robert knew that there was little danger of 
interruption unless some should escape from the room 
to give the alarm ; for so terrible was the very name of 
the hated Executioner that no one ever visited his house 
unless by force of official command. 

The house itself was isolated, as no one would will- 


Balthazar, the Executioner s Son. 


37 


ing-ly live near the bloody monster of the law, and Sal- 
bano kept no servants. Both he and Sizera were too 
miserly to pay for household servants, even had any- 
one been willing- to live in the house of the headsman. 

There was, then, little danger of interruption unless 
by the escape of some one within, and against this the 
vigilance of the Admiral instantly guarded 

“ At least I may leave the room in which my son is 
about to be tortured,” cried Sizera, fiercely. 

“ Seize that woman ! bind her ; and, if she screams, 
gag her !” commanded the Admiral. 

Unlike her cowardly son, Sizera made a fierce, though 
vain, resistance. Her strength, though as great as that 
of most men, was soon overcome by the athletic arms 
of the sailors, despite her fierce blows, kicks and bites. 
She was bound and forced upon a stool. 

“ Where is that old villain, Rapal ?” demanded the 
Admiral. “ Come forth, old serpent — drag him out of 
that corner.” 

The trembling wretch, who merited a thousand deaths 
for his crimes and cruelties, was seized and dragged 
before the Admiral. 

“ Mercy, Lorenzo ! Oh, my lord, I am an old man 
and very feeble,” pleaded Rapal, grovelling upon the 
stone floor, and striving to press his skinny lips upon 
the feet of the Admiral, who spurned his approach with 
disgust. 

“ Hoary scoundrel,” said Cbunt Robert, “ do you still 
dare claim me as your grandson ? To your feet, villain, 
and answer my questions.” 

Rapal tremblingly obeyed, and stood abased before 
the indignant noble. 

“ I will answer most truthfully any and all questions, 
my lord.” 

“ See that you do, miserable old liar. I know you 


38 


The Executioner of Venice. 


well, Rapal Vecci. What mean these stains of blood 
upon the maiden’s neck ?” 

“ I didn’t do it — by all the saints !” 

Silence ! Who did do it ? Her fair cheek is bruised. 
I see thereon the print of fingers. Who struck her ?” 

Rapal glanced at the angry face of the admiral, and 
saw that it was no time for trifling. 

“ Sizera did it, my lord.” 

“ What ! did that she-wolf have no mercy upon a 
helpless one of her own sex — no pity for the tender 
orphan deserted by her mother ? Take up the scourge, 
Rapal.” 

“ If he dares lay it on me, I will not eat bread nor 
drink water until I have planned revenge,” cried Sizera. 
“ Take care, man, for all you have me in your power 
now. When you strike me you strike a servant of the 
State.” 

“What says the law?” — began Rapal, who, although 
eager to use the scourge upon one who had made him 
an object of taunt a thousand times, dreaded the future 
vengeance of Sizera. What says the law ? — ‘ Whoever 
shall smite the meanest of the servants of the State 
defieth the Sthte.’ ” 

“ Take up the scourge and strike the she-wolf until 
I cry hold I” commanded the Admiral. “ Haste ! or the 
scourge shall tear what flesh you have from your own 
vile bones.” 

With eyes dilated with terror, and yet sparkling with 
delight, Rapal grasped the formidable scourge. 





CHAPTER IV. 

THE SCOURGE OF STEEL. 

Salbano, cowed by the audacity of a man who, though 
a proclaimed traitor, and almost in the midst of a city 
ruled over by those who had offered an immense reward 
for his head, dead or alive, dared assail the household 
of the Chief Executioner, stood inactive near the wall. 

Sizera had quickly bound up his wounds and checked 
the flow of blood, so that he felt himself able to cope 
with any one man, or even with the Admiral and his 
fellows if his own underlings were less cowardly. 

He darted a glance of menace at the pale-faced 
fellows who had cast down their weapons instead of 
using them at his command, and ground his teeth as he 
saw that he was, for the time, wholly in the power of 
the daring Admiral. 

It seemed like fate that this Admiral, who had fled 
from his cruelty when a boy, should thus unexpectedly 
swoop down upon his house like a hawk upon its prey. 

He could easily remember the time when this famous 
warrior was a weak and wailing babe, cast into his cruel 
hands by the treachery of the child’s relatives, to be 
slain ; and how he and Rapal, urged by the plotting 
Sizera, had preserved instead of slaying the babe — pre- 
served the boy to use at some future time against those 
who had planned and paid for his destruction. 

Here was that child, which, for more than ten years, 

[ 39 ] 


40 


The Executioner of Venice. 


he and Sizera had reared and declared to be their son, 
returned in the person of the noted warrior and seaman 
of the Turkish seas — returned not merely to wreak a 
just vengeance upon him, Sizera and Rapal, for the 
many cruelties which they had heaped upon his help- 
less boyhood, but also to snatch from his grasp Fiorina 
— Fiorina, the child of rank, wealth and misfortune, 
whom he and Sizera had reared to be the wife of the 
ungainly Balthazar, and after that to be a source of 
unfailing wealth and extortion. 

Surly and sidlen by nature, the Executioner let his 
wounded arms fall at his sides, and leaned in morose 
and angry silence against the wall, hoping that some 
unforeseen circumstance might yet baffle the revenge 
of the Admiral and throw him into the dungeons of 
the vindictive Senate. 

Rapal raised the scourge and stood near the bound 
Sizera awaiting the further orders of the Admiral. 

“ You had best strike lightly, old man,’' snarled the 
furious woman, “ for I promise you that I will pay it 
all back with usury.” 

“ But I must strike, my dear Sizera, if he commands,” 
replied Rapal, carefully separating the long lashes of 
linked steel with his lean fingers. “ If I do not obey 
him, he will sweep my head from my shoulders.” 

“ Better have your head swept from your shoulders 
a thousand times, Rapal Vecci, than scourge me. I see 
the pleased devil glittering in your eyes, and I know 
you hate me. Strike lightly, old man, for I will pay 
you back every blow with a score twice as hard.” 

“ Sizera,” said the Admiral, sternly, “ did you draw 
the blood of this maiden ?” 

Sizera made no reply, though her brutish eyes glared 
with hate as she raised them to the pale face of 
Fiorina. 


The Scourge of Steel. 


41 


“ Oh, my dear lord ! oh, Robert !” whispered Fiorina, 
as she saw and understood this terrible glance, “ do not 
have her scourged. If fate should ever throw me into 
her power again, the cruelties which I have felt she 
will redouble.” 

“ She pleads for you, Sizera,” said the Admiral, 
addressing the wife of the Executioner. “ This beauti- 
ful victim of your hate and malice is so merciful, so 
angelic, that she implores me to pardon you for drawing 
her innocent blood, every drop of which is worth a 
world of such lives as yours. I know not what tortures 
you have inflicted upon her during the unhappy years 
you have had it in your power — it is well for you 
that I do not — but I see the marks of your recent bru- 
tality upon her cheeks ; I see her blood staining her 
fair neck ; she trembles as she hears your voice ; she 
dares not look upon you, so devilish has been your treat- 
ment ; yet she asks me to spare you. Down upon your 
knees, then, and thank her for her clemency.” 

“ I go upon my knees to no mortal,” cried Sizera. 

“ Not even to heaven, she-wolf,” replied the indig- 
nant Admiral. “ Lay on, Rapal, and strike lustily as 
you value your life. Strike !” 

“ You see, my dear Sizera, that I must strike to save 
my life.” 

“ Strike gently, for I will pay it all back, old hypo- 
crite,” retorted Sizera, setting her sharp teeth hard 
together and glaring at Fiorina. 

“ Oh, great heaven, grant that she may never have me 
in her power again !” mentally exclaimed the trembling 
girl. 

Rapal, recalling all his former expertness with the 
scourge, swung the heavy lashes in the air and slashed 
them with all his strength upon the bony shoulders of 
his fierce daughter-in-law. 


42 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Her corpse-hued face seemed to grow more corpse- 
like, and her lean frame quivered for an instant with 
pain ; yet she made no moan, though she drew a quick 
gasp through her fang-like teeth which sounded like a 
hiss. 

She deserved it all, and ten times as much, for she 
had been a very fiend in the treatment of that gentle 
maiden. No sentiment of pity could soften the heart 
of the Admiral as his indignant eyes rested upon the 
blood-stains on the neck and cheek of his beloved 
Fiorina. 

“ Strike again, Rapal, and faster !” said the Count. 

“ Strike fast !” 

“ The fastest ?” asked Rapal, with an eager face. 

“ Aye, as she and Salbano used to strike me with that 
very scourge,” replied the Admiral. “ Have you for- 
gotten how, one day, just before I fled from Venice, 
Sizera heated those lashes of steel red-hot, and scourged 
me until I fainted with pain. I have not ; nor the scars 
of my body ! Lay on.” 

Rapal now exerted all his strength and activity to 
obey this command. The lashes rose and fell with the 
rapidity of light, — unsparing, sharp, well-aimed and 
fierce. As he warmed in his work, the old man became 
full of the fury of cruelty, and he danced around Sizera 
mad with delight. 

He had many an old score to pay back ; and he plied . 
the scourge with wild cries of triumph, regardless of the 
roaring of his victim. 

“ Hi-hi ! — Is that ! — and this !— and so ! — and more ! — 
and thus ! — and now ! — and there ! — laid on ! — lightly ! 
— gently ! — softly !” he cried, striking at every exclama- 
tion. “ How much ! — interest ! — and usury ! — can you ! 
— Sizera ! — pay me ! — for this ?” 

She neither moaned nor moved. Her flesh seemed 


The Scourge of Steel, 


43 


as hard as rock — as devoid of feeling as her heart. She 
sat motionless upon the stool, pale, cadaverous, corpse- 
like, and her great leaden-hued eyes never moved from 
the face of Fiorina. 

The wife of the Executioner was well known by sight 
to several of the sailors. They had seen her scourge 
many a man, many a woman, upon the scaffold, as it 
floated through the main canals of Venice, that all might 
see how the State punished its criminals or its victims. 
Her red and tangled locks had flaunted in the breezes 
of the Adriatic port, as she thus tortured some poor 
wretch condemned to be flogged to death for the theft 
of a few coins or, perchance, of a loaf of bread. 

The sailors, therefore, gazed upon the scene with 
approval. As for the cowardly underlings of the prison, 
it was no rare thing for them to see a woman scourged 
by Sizera. 

“ Enough,” said the Admiral, suddenly. “ It is very 
true that she deserves death under the lash, but not at 
the command of private vengeance. The God of Jus- 
tice will one day demand her life before the people of 
Venice ; so cease, and lay on thrice as hard upon Bal- 
thazar.” 

“ Upon Balthazar, my lord ?” exclaimed Rapal in 
great consternation. 

“ Certainly. Would you have me forget Balthazar ? 
Give him the hardest you have.” 

“ I am exhausted, my lord,— I am out of breath — 1 — ” 

“True; nor could* you strike hard enough. Stand 
forth, boatswain Carlotti,” said the Admiral. 

A stout, bluff-faced seaman advanced, and saluted the 
Count. 

“ Carlotti, a year ago your brother Demetro died in 
Venice ?” 


44 


TJie Executioner of Venice. 


“ Yes, Sir Robert ; scourged to death, in the great 
square of San Marco,” said the man. 

“ Why punished, Carlotti ?” 

“ Because he struck some fellow who wore the livery 
of Duke Monteforte, after the fellow had insulted my 
brother’s wife.” 

“ Behold the man who insulted your brother’s wife. 
Behold the man who inflicted that terrible death upon 
your brother. Balthazar is in the service of the Duke 
Monteforte, and is also second Executioner of Venice. 
Take the scourge from the old man, and remember your 
brother’s death,” said the Admiral. 

“ Let father Rapal use the scourge,” roared Balthazar, 
who still remained upon his knees. “ My lord, you and 
I are, or may be, brothers/’ 

“ Silence, hound ! You and I brothers — great God 
forbid ! Take the scourge, Carlotti.” 

The boatswain, whose naturall}^ bluff and frank 
countenance had suddenly become pale and sharp with 
fierce hate, snatched the scourge from the trembling 
hands of old Rapal, and, turning to the Admiral, said : 

“ My Admiral, the man is not ready for the punish- 
ment.” 

“Not ready? True, Carlotti. Tear off his jerkin, 
men. Strip him to the skin.” 

“ Mercy, my lord !” began Balthazar, as the boat- 
swain’s mates tore his garments from his back, using 
their side knives to make haste ; “ mercy on a man who 
may be your brother !” 

“ What says the law ?” began old Rapal, who loved 
Balthazar as an old grandsire hyena may love a hyena 
whelp. 

But the stern count stamped his foot heavily, exclaim- 
ing : 

“Justice before mercy, Balthazar Vecci. When you 


The Scourge of Steel, 


45 


scourged to death the brother of Carlotti, you knew 
that he was innocent. After that crime, what did you 
do ? Oh, tiger-heart, you used all your power of place 
and venom of hate to destroy his widow and children. 
You reduced them to beggary. Family of wolves, since 
my return to Venice, I have investigated this affair, and 
I have sworn to avenge the brother of Carlotti, for it 
was that brother who aided me to escape from your 
cruelty. Strike, Carlotti Dalvo, and remember the 
murdered.” 

“ Is he mad or is he master of all Venice ?” thought 
Salbano, as he gazed at the Admiral. 

The face of the latter evinced no sign of insanity. 
That dark and lordly countenance was calm and 
haughty in its consciousness of power. 

“ Fool 1” thought the Executioner, “ he has been so 
long away from Venice that he knows nothing of her 
power. He thinks it is all in her marine. He does not 
dream of the terrible authority of the Council of Ten.” 

Carlotti again turned to the Admiral, after the bare 
back of Balthazar was exposed, and said : 

“ The man is not ready, my Admiral.” 

“Not ready yet? Ah, I see. He is free to move 
about, to rise to his feet,” replied the Admiral, glanc- 
ing around him. 

His eye fell upon a strong iron staple, driven into the 
wall, and Balthazar, whose eyes followed those of the 
Admiral, began to yell— to bellow. 

“ Tie him to that,” commanded the Admiral. “ I 
well remember, Salbano, when you bound me to that 
same spot, and giving the scourge to Balthazar, said, 
‘Lay on, my son. Practice on Lorenzo.’ Did I not 
swear then, as you smote me, Balthazar, to repay father 
and son ? Haste, or w.e may be interrupted.” 

Captain Andrea, who had been without the house 


46 


The ExectUioiier of Venice. 


since the entrance of the sailors, now returned and 
whispered to the Admiral : 

“ A gondola is approaching the Executioner’s quay, 
filled with armed men. The standard at the prow is 
that of the Duke Parmetta, and the livery of the gon- 
doliers also.” 

“ The duke is chief of the Senate — my most bitter 
enemy,” replied the Admiral. “ Why my enemy I 
know not. There is nothing about our barge to declare 
my presence here ?” 

“ Nothing, my lord ; yet all may know that it is a sea- 
barge.” 

“ I had rather lose a finger, Andrea, than fail to 
punish this wretch, Balthazar. Strike, Carlotti !” 

The boatswain, accustomed by the duties of his office 
to handle the lash, sprang to obey the command, while 
the Admiral spoke hastily to Captain Andrea, who 
immediately left the room, after ordering four of the 
sailors to follow him. 

Carlotti struck for vengeance, and struck as if the 
spirit of his murdered brother nerved his arm. Bal- 
thazar, at the first blow, howled like a wounded wolf, 
but was instantly gagged by the boatswain’s mates. 

“ Strike fast, Carlotti, for our time is short.” 

Pain and torture gave Balthazar a courage he never 
had felt before ; and silently cursing himself for not 
having made desperate use of his immense strength ere 
he had so tamely allowed himself to be bound, he tugged 
furiously to tear out the staple which held him to the wall- 

But the iron was stout, and resisted all his tremendous 
strength, while the resolute boatswain showered his 
avenging blows upon the mass of writhing flesh and 
muscle. 

Every stroke of the scourge wielded by that strong 
and experienced hand made ten livid stripes upon the 


The Scourge of Steel. 


47 


back and shoulders of the miscreant, who now had a 
taste of the dreadful tortures he had often inflicted upon 
others. 

“We owe all this to you !” cried Sizera, glaring at 
Fiorina. 

“ No ; to your own cruelty, vile woman,” said the 
Admiral. “ Lay on, Carlotti.” 

“ To the death, my Admiral ?” asked the boatswain, 
as he paused to wipe his brow. 

“ To the death, with the permission of heaven,” 
replied the Admiral, in a stern voice, while his dark and 
steady eyes turned towards the door which led to the 
hall. 

Carlotti resumed his labor ; but he no longer struck 
at the back and shoulders of Balthazar. He aimed his 
blows at the neck and head, the throat and face of the 
Executioner’s son. 

In a moment Balthazar’s head and face were deluged 
with blood. The sharp edges of the links of steel, pur- 
posely keen to lacerate the victims of Venetian vengeance 
and tyranny, bit deeply through scalp and skin. 

“ To the death ? So be it growled Salbano, gazing 
fiercely at the calm, stern countenance of the Admiral. 

“ To the death ? So be it hissed Sizera from her 
wolfish teeth and livid lips, as she gazed at Fiorina. 

“ To the death ? So be it snarled old Rapal, as he 
crouched near Salbano, and rolled his snake-like eyes 
from face to face of all who obeyed the Admiral. 

“ Spare his life, my dear lord,” whispered Fiorina, 
shuddering at the scene. 

“ Fiorina, you little know the horrible cruelties which 
that ill-shapen, soulless wretch has inflicted upon me 
and many others,” replied the Admiral ; “ yet at your 
desire the punishment shall cease. Enough, Carlotti.” 

“ The spirit of my murdered brother is still in my 


48 


The Execzitioner of Venice. 


heart, my Admiral,” said the boatswain pausing reluc- 
tantly. 

“ Leave the rest to the vengeance of heaven, Carlotti.” 

“ Not a moment is to be lost. Count Robert,” cried 
Captain Andrea, entering hurriedly. •“ The duke is 
nearly at the quay, and his gondola is followed by three 
others, all filled with troops of the Senate. Our barge 
is ready — ” 

“ Then we will instantly depart. Come, my men, we 
have work before us,” said the Admiral, as he hurried 
from the room, half leading, half carrying Fiorina. 

“ May the devil grant that your escape be cut off !” 
screamed Sizera, who perceived that some serious and 
sudden danger menaced the Admiral and his party. 

“One for you, old villain!” cried Carlotti, who was 
the last to leave the room ; and with these words he 
slashed old Rapal across the face with the scourge, and 
then knocked him down with the handle. 

“ Cut my bonds, Rapal,” screamed Sizera, as the old 
man scrambled to his feet. “ Let me at least aid in the 
capture of those devils. I wonder who has disturbed 
them in their villainy. The alarm was sudden, and 
must be in great force to hurry them, thus.” 

“No doubt,” replied old Rapal, wiping his bleeding 
face with his sleeve ; “ and may all the saints trip them 
up. But let me free Balthazar from the gag and his 
bonds. What defiance of the law I For says not the 
law — ” 

“The fiend take you and the law !” roared Salbano. 
“ Do men stop to prate of the law when they have the 
will and the power to break it ? To work, old man, and 
free Sizera, who is worth a score of that calf whose 
cowardice has made me blush. My arms and fingers 
are so stiff from my wounds that I cannot use my knife. 


The Scourge of Steel. 


49 


Ha ! listen ! The clash of swords ! The cries of fight- 
ing men ! What is it they shout ?” 

“ Parmetta,” replied the quick-eared Sizera. “ The 
rascals have encountered the retainers of the duke, who 
is our friend.” 

“ As he well may be,” growled the Executioner, with 
a fierce oath. “ I will have news for his excellency 
when we meet — rare and startling news, by my faith, 
and perhaps we may quarrel.” 

As he spoke he moved towards the door, but paused 
as he was met at the door by a Venetian noble, followed 
by several of his body-guards. 

This noble, a man far advanced in years, yet erect and 
active, did not pause to notice the disordered appear- 
ance of the weapon-room, but on recognizing Salbano 
exclaimed : 

Liar ! cheat ! You told me the boy perished at sea. 
Arrest this scoundrel,” he continued to his followers, 
while his voice and frame trembled with passion. 

Upon what charge, my lord, Signor Parmetta ?” 
asked Salbano, as the retainers of the nobleman grasped 
his collar. “ It is true, my lord, that you are chief of 
the Council of Ten, yet I have a right to ask why I, the 
Chief Executioner of Venice, am arrested. Private 
affairs should not be made too public, my lord.” 

There was a covert air of defiance, even of menace, 
beneath the assumed humility of the Executioner which 
cooled the anger of the nobleman. 

He had no charge at hand which he might allege. 
Power he had, yet Salbano, too, had a latent power to 
strike back, the power of an accomplice in crime. 

“ Release him,” said the duke, in a haughty tone ; and 
then, leading the Executioner aside, he whispered : 
“ Rascal, the boy lives ; I am sure of it. I recognized 


50 


The Exectitioner of Venice. 


his father’s face in the features of a naval captain a 
moment since.” 

“ How, my lord ! Have you captured that naval cap- 
tain ?” asked Salbano, quickly. 

“ Aye, he is captured by this time, no doubt, as the 
troops of the State are under command to arrest all 
officers of her fleet, wherever they may be found, until 
Count Robert da Velli shall have been taken.” 

“ The naval paptain in whom you recognized the 
features of the brother of your grace is Count Robert,” 
said the Executioner. 

On hearing these words the duke rushed from the 
room. 


CHAPTER V. 

THE PURSUIT. 

On reaching the quay, after his hasty departure from 
the weapon-room, the Admiral found several men in the 
uniform of the city guard, standing ready to oppose his 
embarkation. 

The house of the Executioner was situated at the 
apex of an angle formed by the junction of two of those 
canals which in Venice are as the streets of other cities. 
The building, which was of stone, and only one story, 
rose abruptly from the water, a narrow pavement being 
the only means of passage around it for pedestrians. 

Thus, while the Admiral’s barge was moored upon one 
side of the house, the gondolas of the Duke of Parmetta 
were rapidly approaching upon the other. 

“ Sir,” said the officer of the city guards, “ we have 
orders to arrest all who wear the uniform of the officers 


The Pursuit. 


51 


of the fleet. You will excuse us for the performance of 
our duty.” 

‘‘ Pitch these fellows into the canal if they oppose you,” 
cried the Admiral. “ This is no time for ceremony. 
Man the barge. In with you !” 

The city-guardsman, resolute in the performance of 
his duty, especially as he knew that the armed gondolas 
of the Duke of Parmetta were rapidly coming up and 
not far off, threw himself with his six followers between 
the sailors and the barge, at the same instant severing 
with his sword the slender line which held the barge to 
the quay. 

The guard nearest to the boat thrust his halbert 
against it and forced it far from reach, thus ably second- 
ing the purpose of his superior. 

“ You will have it then !” exclaimed Captain Andrea, 
rushing, sword in hand, upon the officer to cut him 
down. 

The officer, however, was no poltroon, and firmly met 
the onset of the sailor, yet his sword was soon struck 
from his hand, and himself tossed into the canal, where 
he floundered and swam for the opposite shore, crying : 

“ Rescue, St. Marc ! — rescue !” 

His followers made a sharp resistance, and several 
wounds were inflicted on both sides before the sailors 
could regain possession of their barge. This they did 
not do until two of them had leaped into the water and 
swam to the boat. 

“ Haste !” commanded the Admiral, casting anxious 
glances toward the angle of the house. “ Take courage, 
Fiorina. All will be well if we are once embarked.” 

All had entered the boat when the Duke of Parmetta 
appeared, hurrying from the house at the head of a 
strong force of his retainers. 

“ Give way !” cried the Admiral. “ It is Parmetta, 


52 


’The Executioner of Venice. 


the father of Lord Marco. Bend to your oars, my 
men !” 

“ It is the traitor — it is Count Robert !” shouted the 
duke, as he pointed to the Admiral with his sword. ‘‘ A 
thousand ducats to him who captures the traitor dead ! 
— three thousand to him who takes him alive ! Give 
word to the guards on the other side. Here, Antonio,” 
he said to a man who stood near him armed with a cross- 
bow, “ take aim at the heart of that gallant who sports 
a white plume in his cap, and a hundred ducats to you 
if you slay him.” 

The barge, propelled by the vigorous arms of twelve 
stout seamen, had already sped many yards from the 
quay, yet was well within reach of a bolt, so that, as 
Antonio poised the unwieldy weapon of that day, he 
muttered : 

“ It is a reward easily won, my lord, yet it grieves 
me to take aim at a breast which has so often stood like 
a rock between Venice and her infidel foes.” 

“ The breast of a traitor, rascal ! Make sure of your 
aim, . Antonio, for at this rate he will be far from your 
reach ere you can load again.” 

Antonio touched the spring of his cross-bow, and the 
duke saw the cap with its white plume floating upon 
the water, while the late wearer was upheld in the arms 
of his comrades. 

“ Well aimed I Well delivered !” cried Parmetta, as 
a triumphant smile wreathed his thin lips. “ Antonio, 
you are worth a hundred bowmen !” 

“ I am your servant, my lord, this many a year, yet 
my mind misgives me that I have struck the boldest 
seaman of all the fleets of Venice. The distance was 
great, and I could not see clearly his features, yet just 
as I touched the spring there was something in his air 
which reminded me of my right noble master, the 


The Pu7'suit. 


53 


brother of your grace, him who so mysteriously disap- 
peared now over twenty-five years ago.” 

“ Silence, old man !” exclaimed the duke, angrily. 
“ If the traitor were your own son, or your own father, 
would you hesitate to slay him ?” 

With these words the duke turned to give orders to 
pursue the barge which still held on its course. 

Several gondolas had now rounded the angle formed 
by the junction of the canals, and their commanders, on 
hearing that the retreating barge contained the out- 
lawed Count Robert, hurried on in pursuit. 

The duke himself, after some moments of delibera- 
tion, hastened into his own gondola to pursue ; but the 
craft did not take the same course with the others, for 
it was in his mind to reach the entrance of the grand 
canal of the city by a more direct route than that which 
the inmates of the barge seemed to have laid down for 
themselves. 

Meanwhile Balthazar, freed by Rapal, and accom- 
panied by Sizera, had entered the gondola of the Exe- 
cutioner, Salbano, though his wounds forbade him the 
free use of his arms, on perceiving that the attention of 
all was centered in the capture of the barge, ordered 
Balthazar to halt until he also had taken a seat in the 
gondola. 

“ Am I to be left behind ?” growled Salbano, as he 
sank upon a cushion. “ The barge will be taken before 
it can reach the harbor.” 

‘‘ Then you think it is making for the harbor T 
asked Balthazar as he grasped the oar. 

“ Where else can the traitor seek safety ? He means 
to reach one of his ships and then put to sea — if the 
crossbow of old Antonio has not slain him.” 

“ You are sure that the bolt struck him then ?” asked 
Sizera, eagerly. 


54 


I'he Executioner of Venice, 


“ I saw him reel and fall back into the arms of one of 
his captains. But that his death would deprive me of 
the pleasure of putting him to the torture, I would 
hope that the bolt pierced his heart.” 

“ So say I,” snarled Sizera as she rubbed her 
shoulders. The pain reminded her of him who had 
inflicted it, and she wheeled fiercely upon Rapal, say- 
ing : 

“ Remember, I warned you not to strike hard — ” 

“ As I live,” cried Rapal, “ I used but the weight and 
strength of a single finger, my dear Sizera, and if we 
catch him I will help you pay it all back to him.” 

It was not her time for vengeance upon Rapal, for 
Balthazar ever protected the old man, so she contented 
herself with a snarl, a snap and a curse, and snatching 
up an oar thrust it into the water, saying : 

“ Where are you going, Balthazar ? You are not 
heading for the harbor ?” 

“No. To meet the gondola of one who madly loves 
Fiorina— my lord Marco del Vida,” replied Balthazar, as 
he urged the boat towards a gondola which had slowly 
floated into view. 

“ For what, foolish Balthazar ? Why delay to speak 
with the slothful Marco del Vida ?” 

“ Wait, and you will change your opinion of his sloth- 
fulness. Wait until he learns that a gallant hath car- 
ried off Fiorina.” 

“ What is Fiorina to the Signor Marco ?” demanded 
Sizera, surprised, and Salbano himself stared at his son 
in wonder, not un mingled with alarm. 

“Yes,” said the Execiitioner, “what is Fiorina to 
Marco del Vida ?” 

“ Simply, he loves her,” replied Balthazar. 

“ So do a hundred gay patricians like him, Balthazar. 
To the left of the gondola of Signor Marco glides that 


The Pursuit. 


55 


of young Angelo di Rama, who has vexed us often with 
his midnight serenades to Fiorina. Why do you select 
Marco rather than Angelo ?” asked Salbano, as he en- 
deavored in vain to catch the treacherous eyes of his son. 

Balthazar made no reply. He knew too well the bold 
and reflective nature of his father, and he feared lest a 
reply would lead to further questioning. 

“ You heard me, Balthazar. Will you reply ?” said 
the Executioner, sternly. 

Balthazar did not reply. He held his face askance so 
that his father, whose sagacity he dreaded, should not 
divine his thoughts. 

“ There is a mystery in this,” whispered Salbano to 
Sizera. “ Of the many gay and reckless young patri- 
cians of Venice, this Signor Marco has most surprised 
me. Has it not ever been that when the beauty of 
Fiorina has attracted an admirer, a hint in his ear that 
she is the adopted daughter of Salbano the Executioner, 
has put him to flight a's laughable as rapid — hath not 
this Signor Marco labored to prove his passion ?” 

“ It is true,” replied Sizera, in the same tone. 

“ He has defied the scorn and jibes of his equals, who 
jeered him for his serenades to the daughter of an 
Executioner. Perhaps, though, he is really infatu- 
ated.” 

Or perhaps he has learned that Fiorina is more val- 
uable than one-half of all the patrician heiresses of 
Venice,” replied Salbano. 

‘‘ Impossible ! That is known only to us and to 
Rapal — not even to Balthazar. No doubt Lord Marco 
is infatuated.” 

Further conversation was interrupted by the voice of 
Balthazar, as he ceased to ply his oar and hailed the 
gondolier of Marco del Vida. 


56 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ Tarry, Stefano. Is the illastrious Signor Marco 
abroad this morning ?” 

“If he is he does not speak with such as you,” replied 
the gondolier, with a glance of disdain at Balthazar, 
and not pausing in his steady slow sculling of his gon- 
dola. 

As he spoke the silken curtains of the cabin of the 
gondola were drawn aside, and the face of a young man 
of great manly beauty, though somewhat dissipated and 
idle in its general expression, appeared ; and after his 
glance had swept over the ungainly form and features 
of Balthazar, this young man called out : 

“ Tarry, Stefano. I know this fellow, and would 
speak with him.” 

“ It is as my lord commands,” replied the gondolier, 
with a side sweep of his oar which carried his light 
craft slowly alongside that of the Executioner. 

A second face now appeared as the silken curtains 
were still further thrust aside — the face of a man past 
middle age, with pale blue eyes, which glittered like 
polished steel. 

“ Ah, the gondola of the devil, my young friend ! It 
is the accursed Salbano. Hasten on,” said this man, 
instantly withdrawing himself from view. 

Both Sizera and Salbano, however, had darted their 
glances at this second face as it disappeared ; so had 
Rapal ; and the three exchanged looks of alarm. 

He in Venice !” ejaculated Sizera, in a deep whisper, 
and staring at her husband. “ For what ? ’ 

“ Silence !” whispered Rapal. “ If he suspects that 
we have recognized him, it may cause us trouble. You 
see that he must have recognized us ; our gondola tells 
all who are its occupants ; and he does not court our 
recognition nor even our gaze.” 


The Pursuit. 


57 


“ Balthazar,” said Signor Marco, “ you wish to speak 
with me ?” 

“ Hastily, my lord, for we have no time to lose. A 
sea-hawk has made a sudden swoop, and at this moment 
is bearing away the dove.” 

“ You speak in riddles, Balthazar, and I am a hater of 
all that demands mental or bodily exertion,” replied the 
indolent young noble, as he carelessly leaned over the 
side of his gondola. “ Ha, you have the whole royal 
family aboard ! By my faith ! what would my friends 
say to see Mareo del Vida ehatting with the entire royal 
family ? Rapal, Salbano, Sizera and Balthazar — hawks 
and doves ! You spoke of hawks and doves — but all is 
hawk here.” 

“ My lord, this is no time for dallying. Count Robert, 
Admiral of Veniee, has just carried off Fiorina, and, 
unless we overtake him or cut him off — ” 

‘ What is this ?” cried he of the glittering eyes, re-ap- 
pearing from the silken curtains, and fixing his keen 
gaze upon Balthazar, — “ what is it that you say of 
Fiorina ?” 

“ I do not know you, sir,” replied Balthazar, with cool 
insolence. 

“ Perhaps you may, fellow, and to your cost,” said the 
stranger, sternly. “You spoke of a Fiorina — do you 
mean Fiorina, the adopted ehild of the Executioner ?” 

Salbano, with sullen boldness, now ealled out to his 
son : 

“ Move on, Balthazar, or I shall be. angry.” 

“ Rascal,” cried the stranger, “ do you dare ” 

“ My lord,” whispered Signor Marco, “ you are in 
Venice.” 

“ True ; but the sight of the scoundrel — suspecting as 
I do — but see what the knave desires. He speaks of 
Fiorina.” 


58 


The Executioner of Venice, 


The listless, idle air of the young patrician had already 
vanished. No sooner had Balthazar informed him that 
Count Robert had carried off Fiorina than he became 
agitated and restless. 

But instead of pursuing his inquiries from his gondola, 
he sprang into that of the Executioner, and conversed 
with Balthazar in whispers. 

“What say you, rascal? Count Robert has carried 
off the fair Fiorina ?“ 

“ True, my lord, and doubtless is now striving to 
reach his fleet, which lies in port just within the Lido.” 

“ Why should he carry her off ? The Admiral has 
but just arrived from Crete. Does he love her ?” 

“ When here last year he won her consent to mar- 
riage.” 

“ Oh ! so far as that ?” 

“ Yes ; and all unsuspected even by Sizera, who, your 
lordship knows, is not easily deceived. Look at my 
hand and face.” 

“ Truly — badly scarred with the lash.” 

“ By his command,” said Balthazar, savagely. “ Ah, 
my lord, you promised me a thousand ducats and the 
girl after you should have tired of her, if I would so 
manage that she should be yours. Had I the money, I 
would give it freely for revenge upon Count Robert.” 

“ Count Robert, whom I have met but once, and that 
was yesterday, is a right noble gentleman ; although, 
for some mysterious reason, my father does not like 
him. Still, he must not rob me of Fiorina.” 

“He is declared a traitor to Venice, and a great 
reward is offered for his head.” 

“ They are liars who call him traitor,” replied the 
noble. “ Some coward has dropped an accusation in 
the lion’s mouth, and the secret enemies of the Count 
in the Council of Three or Ten have acted as if all 


The p2irstiit. 


59 


was proved. Were none others accused with the 
Count ?” 

“ A score or more ; yet I did not learn all their 
names.” 

“ Not mine, Balthazar ?” 

“ Yours, my lord exclaimed Balthazar, staring in 
surprise at the face of the noble. “ I did not hear it. 
Why should I, when my lord is the son of one who will 
be the Doge, the son of the future Prince of Venice ?” 

“ Prince in name, tyrant in soul, puppet in fact,” 
muttered the j^oung noble. 

“ Will you move on, Balthazar ?” cried Sizera, impa- 
tiently. “ Are we to stay here all day, hound ?” 

“ If I am a hound, it is well known what my mother 
is,” replied Balthazar, as the noble sprang back into his 
own gondola. 

“With all speed to the mouth of the grand canal,” 
commanded Signor Marco to his gondolier. 

“ I thought we were to visit the house of the Execu- 
tioner,” remarked the stranger, as Lord Marco threw 
himself upon a seat. “ It is a rare chance to see the 
maiden alone.” 

“ She is not there, dear sir,” replied the noble, wearily. 
“ Count Robert — you have heard of him ?” 

“ As has all Christendom ; I know him well — a brave 
sailor and warrior. I was at Rome when he was 
invested with all the rights and dignities of a Count of 
the Holy Empire. Never was honor bestowed upon a 
more worthy man. What of him ?” 

“ Balthazar says that the count is proclaimed traitor, 
and that he is at this moment flying to the fleet with 
Fiorina, the maiden your Highness wished to see. 
Therefore our gondola is bearing us to the port.” 

The stranger parted the curtains and looked out. 
He saw the black gondola of the Executioner not far 


6o 


The Executioner of Venice, 


behind, its sharp prow clearing the water as the vigor- 
ous strokes of Balthazar urged it onward. 

“You seem familiar with that fellow," remarked the 
stranger, letting fall the curtains, and reclining upon 
the cushioned seats. 

Lord Marco made no reply. So buried was he in his 
thoughts at this moment, that he did not so much as 
hear the voice of his companion. 

The stranger, whose air and dress were those of a 
man of high rank, though not of Venice, regarded his 
silent companion steadily ; and an observer would have 
said that there was much of suspicion in his close 
scrutiny. 

The stranger himself was not one to be passed by 
without remark. He was of unusual length of limb and 
breadth of chest ; while the grandeur of his size and 
bearing was still further increased by a haughty, sharp- 
featured face, full of resolution, daring and sagacity. 

He wore the rich and costly costume of Venice, 
though his bronzed face and hands seemed to declare 
that he was more a man of the field than of the city. 

Beneath his doublet of rare blue velvet could be seen 
his glittering breast-plate of steel, inlaid with gold ; 
and the long dagger in his broad belt, as well as his 
heavy sword, proved that he trusted not wholly to the 
police of the city for his protection. 

In one corner of the canopy of the gondola sat a 
stout. Gallic-faced man, well-armed, and also clad in 
Venetian costume ; but silent, and attentive only to the 
face of the stranger. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE AMBASSADOR. 

Signor Marco — for the hypocritical laws of tyran- 
nical Venice pretended to disdain the common titles of 
nobility, though its entire government was that of an 
extremely aristocratic oligarchy — Signor Marco held his 
handsome dark eyes upon a flower of the fabric which 
carpeted the floor of the little pavilion, as if there was 
much there worthy of his attention ; yet his astute com- 
panion well knew that the soul of the young Venetian 
was far from that spot. 

“ I cannot say that this youth was false to me,” 
thought the stranger. “ I do not think he has suspected 
who I am, nor why I wish to see and question this 
maiden whom they call Fiorina. Yet it is very appar- 
ent that he has a greater interest in her than he 
allowed me to learn at our first interview. Fledglings 
like him cannot divine the thoughts of men like me ; so 
his great change of manner must arise from something 
which he has just learned from that rascal of the 
Executioner’s gondola — something which concerns 
Fiorina.” 

He gazed in silence for a moment, and then bending 
forward — for he sat opposite to the noble — he extended 
his long arm and touched Signor Marco upon the 
shoulder. 

As the noble felt the touch, he grasped his dagger 

[6i] 



62 


The Exectitio7ie7'’ of Ve7i{ce, 


and half drew it fi'om its sheath, while an expression of 
defiance and alarm clouded his usually gay and careless 
face. 

“ Pardon, my lord,” said the Venetian, with much 
confusion, as he recalled his mind to the present ; “I 
was in a dream.” 

“ To dream with the eyes wide open and fixed is a 
bad sign, my young friend,” replied the stranger. 
“ But why grasp your dagger,, even if in a dream ? 
Didst dream of arrest ?” 

“ Look, my lord,” said the Venetian, while his eyes 
sparkled with anger, “ you are my father’s guest, and 
I am bound to treat you even as I would my father ” 

“ I trust not,” interrupted the stranger, with a quiet 
smile ; ” for report says — I do not know with what 
truth — that Signor Marco is a thorn in the eye of him 
who aspires to be next Doge of Venice.” 

“ Why a thorn ?” demanded Marco, fiercely, — so 
fiercely that the stout, armed man we have mentioned 
roused himself from his doze and laid his hand upon 
his sword, while his eyes, clear, keen and bright, 
flashed from the stranger to the Venetian. 

” It is not my affair. Signor Marco,” replied the 
stranger, carelessly. “ I am, as you have generously 
reminded me, the guest of your noble father, and I have 
no right to attempt to irritate his son.” 

Why a thorn ?” persisted Signor Marco, less fiercely, 
yet with the firm resolution. 

“ Gaspola di Parmetta, you illustrious father, is well 
known to be the most ambitious of all the patricians of 
Venice. Signor Marco ” 

“ As he is the most powerful,” said the young noble, 
haughtily. 

“ True ; as he is the most powerful, since Anselmo, 
his brother, is no longer known among men.” 


The Ambassador. 


63 


“ My imcle, Anselmo, is dead. Why speak of him ?” 

“So it is believed ; and yet 'who can say where lie 
the bones of the great and good Anselmo ?” 

“ You, who seem so w^ell informed, must have heard 
that — being convicted of designs against the peace of 
the State — Signor Anselmo was banished from Venice.” 

“ By whom ?” 

“ By a decree of the Council of Three.” 

“ One of whom was, and one of whom is, Gaspola di 
Parmetta, the brother of Signor Anselmo.” 

“ You are wise, sir, if you know who compose the 
Council of Ten ; still more so if you know who make 
up the dread Council of Three,” replied the Venetian. 
“ As you are a stranger to Venice, it would be a marvel 
did you know who compose the Council of Three 
Hundred.” 

“ I know that you, my friend, are one of the Council 
of Ten.” 

Signor Marco started on hearing this. 

Who was this stranger who seemed to know so much 
of him and of the secret government of jealous Venice ? 
This imposing stranger had been introduced to him 
by his father as Sieur Carlo D’Abrette, a nobleman of 
France, and temporary ambassador from the court of 
Charlemagne, the great Emperor. It was but a few 
hours since the chevalier had said to him : 

“I have heard much of the beauty of a maiden called 
Fiorina Tullosa, adopted daughter of Salbano, the 
Executioner. I would like to see her and note her 
charms of face and form.” 

To this desire Signor Marco had readily yielded, for 
he was ever eager in seeking excuses to call upon the 
lovely girl ; and thus it was that his gondola had fallen 
in with that of Balthazar. 

“ You have not been long in Venice,” said the startled 


64 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Venetian, “ and yet you claim to be well informed as 
regards her officers. Still, you have not told me what 
right you have to say that I am a thorn in the eye of 
my father.” 

“ I have not said so. I remarked that it is so reported^ 
much to your credit.” 

“ Ah, and why a thorn, and why much to my credit ?” 

“ It is said that Signor Marco, though a gay and some- 
what dissipated young patrician, has much influence in 
the government of Venice.” 

“ Signor Marco is complimented,” said the noble, iron- 
ically, though the keen and experienced eye of the 
Frenchman saw that his face flushed with excusable 
pride. 

“ It is also said that Signor Marco has often saved the 
lives of those about to be condemned to the rope, the 
lash, or the axe.” 

“ I trust, though I do not pretend to be a saint, that I 
have some strength of mercy in my nature,” replied 
Signor Marco. 

“You did not inherit it from Gaspola di Parmetta,” 
thought the observant Frenchman, while he added aloud : 

“ And often it is reported, I know not with what truth, 
that Signor Marco has bitterly upbraided his father for 
cruelty, and that mere pride of family alone permits 
Gaspola di Parmetta to regard with favor his rebellious 
son.” 

“ Report speaks truly, sir, in that,” said the Venetian, 
bitterly. “ My father cares little for me, save that I am 
his heir and only son. Had I a brother, I would not 
dare to be so bold as I am.” 

“ Tempt not even a father too far,” interrupted the 
Frenchman, warningly. “ Thy father is ambitious, and 
if it is true as is reported in France ” 

“ In France ?” 


The Ambassadoi', 


65 


“ Why not ? Charlemagne keeps a watchful eye upon 
all Europe, and surely Venice is not a mean state. Yes, 
in France we have heard that at the last election of 
Doge the influence of his son prevented Gaspola di Par- 
metta from attaining this dignity and power, which is 
said to belong to all who wear the horned bonnet. If 
this be true, my young friend, perhaps you have already 
gone too far.” 

“ Too far for what, my lord ?” 

“ For the forgiveness of your father. It is said, too, 
that the present doge is at the point of death ; and that 
Signor Gaspola aspires to the high dignity, as most illus- 
trious, most sagacious, most powerful of all whose names 
are inscribed in the ‘ Golden Book ’ of Venice.” 

“ It is so reported, my lord,” replied the Venetian. 

“And also that Signor Marco bitterly opposes the 
election of his father.” 

“ Sir,” said the Venetian, as his handsome face grew 
cold, hard and severe, “ it ill becomes a stranger to' 
meddle with the affairs of Venice. Still less does it 
become a guest to attempt to pry into the affairs of those 
who vSeek to entertain him.” 

With these words Signor Marco half turned his back 
upon his companion, and gazed from the curtains with 
a listless, idle air, while he hummed a light drinking 
song. 

“ This youth wears a cunning mask,” thought the 
Frenchman. “ One to glance at him would say, ‘ Here 
is a reckless, handsome gallant, who thinks only of wine 
and women,’ when in fact he is an ambitious, far-seeing 
man.” 

The thoughts of Signor Marco, while he hummed his 
light song, ran upon the Frenchman thus : 

“ This man is over well informed in many things, and 
perhaps his pretended idle desire to see Fiorina was a 


66 


The Exec7itio7iei' of Venice. 


mask for some deeper purpose. I neither like him nor 
his master, the French emperor. He is doubtless here 
to drive some sharp bargain against the future interests 
of Venice for the aggrandizement of France.” 

His thoughts were diverted by the sudden appearance 
of a barge sweeping around an angle of the canal and 
bearing down upon the gondola of the Executioner with 
all the speed and strength of twelve stout oarsmen. 

“ It is Count Robert !” shouted Balthazar. “ Take the 
traitor.” 

The Admiral stood erect in the stern of the barge, 
grasping the tiller. The bolt shot by old Antonio had 
struck him down for an instant, but having encountered 
his breastplate, had inflicted no further injury. 

Recovering immediately from the shock, he had taken 
the helm to avoid the hot pursuit of his enemies. Divin- 
ing that they had, perhaps, already stationed armed 
boats at the entrance of the grand canal, he had pursued 
a circuitous and erratic course, hoping to reach the port 
by some unsuspected and therefore unguarded route. 

Thus it was that he suddenly met the gondola of the 
Executioner. 

His three captains were near him, as was Fiorina, who 
trembled as she recognized the craft of her late torment- 
ors. 

“ Take care !” cried vSalbano, as he saw the sharp, 
brazen prow of the barge turned directly toward them. 
“ He means to run us down.” 

Balthazar flashed his oar through the water, and the 
light gondola spun sharply around, coming violently in 
contact with that of Signor Marco, otherwise he might 
have evaded the rush of the heavy barge. 

But the Admiral took quick advantage of the collision 
of the two gondolas, and crashed into the center of that 
of the Executioner. 


The Ambassador. 


67 


The strong barge clove the lightly-built gondola into 
two parts, and the Admiral had swayed his helm to sink 
that of Signor Marco, when the Frenchman thrust his 
face from the curtains and shouted in his own language : 

“ Fortune of France ! Count Robert, take care !” 

The Admiral uttered a cry of surprise, reversed his 
helm, and the barge swept by the gondola so closely 
that his larboard oarsmen were forced to trail oars to 
avoid a collision. 

The Executioner and his family, thus violently pre- 
cipitated into the water, scrambled upon the floating 
fragments of their boat, at the same time shouting for 
aid, and filling the air with the cry ; 

“ Seize the traitor Admiral !” 

A command from the Admiral swept his barge along- 
side the gondola of Signor Marco. 

The latter fixed his eyes upon Fiorina, who blushed 
deeply as she recognized the gay noble, and turned her 
face away with maiden reserve if not positive dislike. 

The Frenchman made a warning gesture as the 
Admiral was about to address him, and spoke first : 

“ Ho ! Admiral, it seems that you are beset by some 
sudden difficulty of a serious nature. I am, as perhaps 
you know, Ambassador of His Imperial Majesty, the 
Emperor Charlemagne. Can I serve you without clash- 
ing too violently with the laws of Venice ?” 

“ Truly, my lord," replied the Admiral, “ I must ask 
your protection for this maiden in case I do not succeed 
in reaching my ships. It is she of whom I told you 
when last we met — Fiorina — " 

“Ah, then this is the maiden !’’ exclaimed D’Abrette, 
bending his glittering eyes upon Fiorina with an expres- 
sion of great interest. “ The maiden usually called the 
adopted daughter of the Executioner ? As I live she is 
very fair," 


68 


The Executioner of Venice. 


My Admiral,” said the boatswain, quickly, “ our 
enemies are advancing !” 

If we are captured, remember the maiden, my lord,” 
cried the Admiral, as he made a sign with his hand 
which caused his sailors to bend to their oars and lift 
the barge rapidly away. 

“ I will. Admiral,” shouted D’Abrette, as the barge 
swept on, and then beneath his heavy gray moustache 
he added : 

“ It would be strange were I to forget that for w’hich 
alone I am in Venice. So that is Fiorina — most beauti- 
ful she is, and I may swear, most virtuous.” 

“ Is she not most virtuous. Signor Marco ?” he asked 
aloud. 

“ None more so in Venice, my lord. Indeed, she is as 
cold as an icicle.” 

“ Then her beauty has also fascinated Signor Marco ? 
Ah, it is no longer a mystery why you so readily agreed 
to play the part of showman to an old Frenchman,” 
remarked D’Abrette, mockingly. 

“ The Frenchman is not so old as he would appear,” 
replied the Venetian, “ or why should he have desired 
to see the beauty of an obscure girl T' 

“ Perhaps all her charms do not consist in her beauty, 
my friend,” said D’Abrette, with a keen glance right 
into the eyes of his companion, a glance which the 
Venetian met with an unquailing eye, though his heart 
leaped to his throat. 

“ I know nor what charms she has, save those of 
person and virtue. Wealth she has not, and as for kin- 
dred, why the least said the better, since Salbano the 
Headsman claims her as his adopted daughter.” 

“You made no attempt to arrest the Admiral,' said 
the Frenchman, suddenly, while the gondola held on in 
swift pursuit of the barge. 


Hie Ambassador. 


69 


“ It would have been vain. Besides, I saw that 
Fiorina loves the Admiral ; and, though I now know 
that I need hope no more to win her heart, I am ready 
to be her friend." 

“ What ! and place her in the arms of your rival ?" 

“ Till a few moments since," replied the Venetian, “ I 
did not so much as know that the Admiral had ever seen 
Fiorina, far less did I suspect that he loved her." 

“ Certainly love sharpened your eyes. Signor," 
exclaimed the Frenchman. “ I saw nothing pass 
between them that savored of love." 

“ Did not that knave Balthazar say that the Admiral 
had abducted the maiden — ” 

“ In truth, I did not hear all that the bow-legged 
monster told you. How could I, when you were so 
anxious that I should hear nothing ?" 

The Frenchman asked this with an ingenuoiis air of 
expostulation, which did not deceive the watchful 
Venetian. 

“ Bah ! We would do well to dismiss the subject," 
said Lord Marco, with a light smile, so frank, so boyish, 
that D^Abrette gnawed his long, gray moustache, and 
reflected thus : 

“ I see. He is dangerous. He plays the part of a 
free-hearted, careless youth, when he has the brain of a 
statesman. It is clear that he had some grave design 
upon this beautiful maiden, and I do verily believe him 
when he avers that he knew nothing of the passion of 
Count Robert. It is not natural, however, if he loved 
Fiorina much or little, from heart or from lip, that he 
should so tamely resign her to the arms of his rivals 
parbleu r thought the Frenchman, “perhaps this 
is one of those astonishing friendships of which I have 
lead, but, as I am a living man, I have never seen 
among men,” 


70 


The Executioner of Venice. 


A smile of mocking incredulity made the heavy gray 
moustache rise almost to the high cheekbones of the 
Gaul as he leaned forward and said : 

“ But we have our modern friendships as well as the 
Greeks and the Romans.” 

“ I do not understand you, my lord,” replied Lord 
Marco, with a cold reserve which would have extin- 
guished most questioners. 

“ You have heard of Damon and Pythias ?” 

“ I think I have heard our holy confessor say some- 
thing of some persons of that name. They were gods 
of the Egyptians, were the}^ not ?” asked the subtle 
Venetian, with an air of simple ignorance which would 
have imposed upon any man except the experienced 
Gaul. 

“ Oh, they were Turks,” responded Sieur D’Abrette, 
with an assumption of ignorance equal to the pretence 
of the Venetian. “ Damon gave his life for his friend 
Pythias, and so you, with equal generosity, give your 
love away to please the attainted Admiral. Now, I have 
lived some fifty or more years, and I have seen many a 
man sacrifice his life for a friend ; have you not also, 
though not so old ?” 

“ At least, my lord, I have heard men declare their 
readiness to lay down their lives for the lives of their 
friends,” replied Signor Marco, evasively. 

“ But never have I seen, or heard proved, that a man 
would give up his beloved to the arms of his rival, 
though that rival were his own brother,” said the French- 
man. “ Have you ?” 

Perhaps there was no man in all Venice more skilled 
than Signor Marco, who had been trained by his wily 
father, Gaspola di Parmetta, in the evasion of direct or 
indirect questions ; yet there was a piercing sharpness, 
a needle-point keenness, in the manner of this myste- 


The Ambassador, 


T 


rious Frenchman, which pierced his thickest barriers of 
careless ease and as'siimed indifference. 

Signor Marco, universally believed by all Venice to be 
the enemy of his father, openly and secretly, and looked 
upon by the common people as their staunch defender, 
and, in fact, a young man far in advance of his age, 
almost trembled as Sieur D’Abrette pointed his words, 
with glittering eyes, majestic face and ironical tones. 

“ Let us change tha subject, my lord,” he said, as if 
his boyish mind was wearied with the discussion, thohgh 
scarcely touched upon. “ Let us speak of Fiorina.” 

“ Good ! Let us speak of Fiorina,” replied the French- 
man. “ Who is she ?” 

Here was another of those sudden sword-thrusts of 
the tongue so ready with the tall Ambassador ; and 
Signor Marco, with ready wit, replied with another 
question : 

“ Before we answer that, my lord, let us ask who is 
Count Robert ?” 

“ Chief Admiral of all the fleets of Venice, is he not i 
A noble Senator, if he sees fit to claim his rank among 
your rulers.” 

Still his name nor that of his ancestors, so far as 
known, is not upon the pages of the Golden Book ; and 
what right has he to claim a seat as a Senator ?” asked 
Signor Marco, wishing to test the knowledge of the 
Frenchman. “ You must have heard, what is true, that 
no one whose ancestors are not of those whose name^ are 
inscribed upon the jealously-guarded pages of the 
Golden Book, can aspire to be Venetian Senators.” 

“ Very true ; yet there are exceptions,” replied 
D’Abrette, “ and among them that of Count Robert da 
Velli, who, by acclamation of the Council of Three 
Hundred, with the unanimous approval of the Council 
of Ten, and the express decree of the Council of Three, 


72 


The Executioner of Venice. 


was made full Senator of Venice, as a reward for his 
great merit in defeating the Turks -for six successive 
days, with a greatly inferior force. But this does not 
answer my question. Who is he ?” 

“ A Venetian,” replied the noble, haughtily. 

“ Prove it,” said the Ambassador, pointedly. 

“ His birth is unknown, although it has been rumored 
that he is of France.” 

“ Of France ?” exclaimed the Ambassador, in genuine 
surprise. 

“ Yes, it has reached the ears of our Senate that the 
Admiral has hinted that his ancestors are French,” 
replied the Venetian. 

“Yet I have heard that this accursed Salbano, your 
Executioner, once claimed him as a son.” 

It was now plain that the Venetian was surprised. 
He, at least, had never heard that the late favorite 
Admiral of Venice had once been called the son of Sal- 
bano, the brother of the infamous Balthazar. . If the 
assertion were true, surely Balthazar, his paid and trusty 
spy, had never told him. 

He stared at the Ambassador so long and steadily 
that the latter, with a grim smile of superiority, was 
compelled to say : 

“It is plain. Signor Marco, that neither you or I know 
much of the origin of the Admiral.” 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE COURSE OF THE ADMIRAL. 

Signor Marco made no reply to the remark of the 
Frenchman, for at that moment the attention of all was 
attracted by the shouts of the steersman of the gondola. 

“ Look, my masters! The Admiral is hard pressed,” 

Signor Marco and his companion quitted the pavilion 
of the gondola and advanced to the prow. The stout 
and heavy-armed body-guardsman of the Frenchman 
also came forth, and placed himself near Sieur D’Abrette. 

The quays and pavements on each side of the canal 
were crowded witli people rqshing here and there 
amidst the wildest excitement, as the word was already 
abroad that Count Robert was a proclaimed traitor, and 
in the act of making his escape from the city. 

The great reward offered for his capture had stimu- 
lated the selfish and mercenary masses to unusual exer- 
tion. Popular opinion had completely changed within 
a few minutes. 

Only an hour had passed since every vagabond as well 
as every busy citizen was ready to toss his cap in the air 
and yell, “ Long live the noble Admiral I” and already 
a few words, proclaimed by the heralds of their despotic 
government, had inflamed the minds of the inhabitants 

f73] 


74 


The Executioner of Venice. 


against their late idol as if all had suffered some great 
indignity at his hands. 

As the barge of the Admiral swept steadily and rap- 
idly on its way, there were scores of cowardly knaves on 
the narrow pavements who longed to hurl missiles at 
the fugitives. But the defiant face and heroic bearing 
of the Admiral as his calm, bright glance moved slowly 
over the dense array of agitated faces, and the well- 
known forms and features of his three famous captains, 
made all withhold their violence, no one being bold 
enough to begin an assault. 

The presence of a young and beautiful lady in the 
barge also had much influence in restraining the attack 
of the mob. 

Besides, and not least, the fierce faces, bronzed and 
lowering, of the crew of the barge, all veterans of the 
sea, and known by name to many of the populace, their 
reputation as tried fighters, and their burnished side- 
arms, warned the people that there was danger in assail- 
ing so formidable a force. Not formidable in numbers, 
but terrible in fame and defiant in bearing. 

“ Let fly a stone, Giovanni,” said one of the mob. 
“ One will be followed By a thousand.” 

“ Do that yourself, Tomaso. Do you not see ? It is 
the great Admiral with his famous three ! Besides, 
those black-bearded fellows at the oars are not babies. 
They are no white-livered cits to be terrified by a 
shower of pebbles. Come, they are Turk-killers.’’ 

The barge had sped on unmolested, from canal to 
canal, though hundreds of pursuing gondolas swarmed 
in its wake. Those in advance hurried to the quays to 
give free passage, for rumor had already spread abroad 
that twenty or more gondolas had been crashed to 
splinters by the brazen beak of the invincible barge. 

But when the shout of the gondolier of Signor Marco 


The Course of the Admiral. 


75 


attracted the attention of his master, a new danger 
threatened the escape of the daring Admiral. 

The canals of Venice are spanned by many bridges, 
and one of these was now not far from the barge. This 
bridge was crowded with Sbirri, or the soldiers of the 
city, as well as by many of the foreign troopers of the 
rich and warlike Republic. The glistening of their 
spears, lances, battle-axes and other weapons caught 
the eye of the Admiral, and he felt his chances of 
escape sink as he noticed that many of those upon the 
bridge were armed with cross-bows and javelins. Fire- 
arms in that day were unknown, but the fatality of the 
skill of Venetian and Genoese bowmen had achieved 
many a victory over the Infidels. 

The mass of pursuing gondolas which had joined in 
the chase, more to witness its termination than to aid in 
the intended capture, now blocked up retreat. 

To shoot through the arch of the bridge, to run the 
gauntlet of those bowmen, was the only course to be 
taken. 

“ Look over your shoulders, my lads !" shouted the 
Admiral; “ You see the danger. I will not dare it 
without your consent.” 

The oarsmen glanced over their shoulders at the 
perilous bridge, and for a moment held their oars above 
the water. 

This action was supposed by the mob and those upon 
the bridge to be the end of the chase. No doubt the 
sailors gave up in despair, and as this belief flashed into 
the minds of the populace a roar of shouts, exulting 
and derisive, filled the air. Caps were tossed up, arms 
waved and loud screams of triumph raised. 

The grim-visaged warriors of the sea, after a glance 
at the peril, turned their faces to their commander as if 
moved by one impulse, and every man swept his oar 


76 


The Executioner of Venice. 


through the water with a fierce and redoubled strength, 
which lifted the heavy barge far towards the bridge. 

A quick gesture of the Admiral made every oar back 
water, and in an instant after the gondola of Sieur 
Marco ranged astern of the barge. 

The Admiral lifted Fiorina from the latter to the 
former, and the stout arms of the gigantic Frenchman 
received her. 

“ Protect her, my lord !” cried the Admiral. 

Surrender, Count Robert, and trust to the * Fortune 
of France,’ ” said D’Abrette, his expressive features 
promising more than his speech. 

“Ah, you little know the mad vindictiveness of the 
present Senate,” replied the Admiral. “ I am already 
doomed, so let me die as I made my fame, sword in 
hand,” 

“ Robert ! Robert !” exclaimed Fiorina, struggling to 
get free from the encircling arm of the ambassador. 
“ Do not desert me !” 

“ He is preserving you, poor child,” said D’Abrette^ 
soothingly, as the Admiral drew his sword and pointed 
toward the bridge. 

“But he will be slain, oh God !” cried Fiorina, clos- 
ing her eyes as if she feared the scene of desperate 
struggle. 

“ We must move back, or we may be struck by the 
missiles,” said Signor Marco to his gondolier. 

But this was now impossible, for the moving mass of 
craft of all kinds had swept steadily on, crowding the 
canal, until it was crammed from quay to quay on 
either side. 

The gondoliers in advance instantly catching the 
alarm, as they saw that the Admiral intended to go on, 
struggled to hold back, but the tide was flowing strongly 
into the port, and bore them on. 


The Coitrse of the Admiral, 


77 


The Admiral, however, had no intention to run the 
fatal gauntlet of the bridge, but after a few brief words 
to his crew suddenly changed his course and drove the 
prow of the barge into a narrow archway belonging to 
the palace of some nobleman. 

“Ashore! Right through the palace, shoulder to 
shoulder !” cried the Admiral, as he sprang upon the 
landing place. 

His sailors followed him, each snatching up his heavy 
battle-axe. 

Signor Duella, the aged owner of the palace, who had 
been watching the animated scene from a balcony which 
overlooked the canal, no sooner saw the barge disappear 
beneath his archway than he shouted to his retainers to 
give free passage to the fugitives. 

“ There must be no fighting in my palace !’* he cried, 
as he wrung his hands. “ I am poor enough, God 
knows, without having my furniture smashed by the 
savages ! Let them pass, Baptiste ! They will be cap- 
tured as they go out ! Oh, my precious mirrors of crys- 
tal ! My rare paintings ! My rich tapestry ! My costly 
marbles ! Run, Baptiste ! fly to the treasury room ! 
Die before you permit anyone to enter ! Beggar that I 
am, am I to be made a total wreck ?” 

With these words the miserly old noble hurried away 
to aid in the escape of the Admiral, at least from his 
palace. After that, the Admiral might go to Constan- 
tinople or elsewhere, for all that old Duella cared. 

The populace were taken by surprise. At the 
moment when they expected to see the barge swept 
within reach of the expected bowmen, it had darted 
aside and vanished as if suddenly swallowed by the 
walls. 

They knew in an instant, however, whither it had 
gone, and the late roar of triumph, which had been 


78 


The ExeciUioner of Venice. 


SLicceeded by a breathless silence, pealed into a shrill 
clamor of rage. 

Mobs thirst for victims, whether victims guilty or 
innocent, and the fierce populace of Venice, like all 
slaves of despotism, was vindictive and merciless in its 
instincts. 

The masses nearest to the palace charged upon it to 
enter its portals, but the fears of old Duella had already 
seen every door and entrance closed upon that side. 

“ Great Saints of Mercy !” was the ejaculation of Sig- 
nor Duella, when the danger to his palace flashed into 
his mind. “ If my palace becomes a passage for the 
vagabonds of Venice, what will become of me ? 
Beggary ! Ruin ! Bar and bolt, you knaves ! See that 
no hole large enough to admit a rat is left open on the 
side towards Canal St. Luke. Barbarians of the .sea 1 
what devil of destruction turned their flight into my 
poor abode ?” 

Muttering and mumbling his fears and his impre- 
cations, the old miser hurried to see that his various 
orders were obeyed. 

As he ran about, he suddenly encountered the Admiral 
dX the head of his party. 

“ Show us the readiest exit, old man,” commanded 
the Admiral sternly, as he saw the old noble, whose 
worn and shabby robes gave no sign of his rank and 
wealth. 

“ Certainly, my lord, duke, king, or what not,” replied 
Signor Duella’ hastily. “ Follow me, royal men, follow 
me, and I will — ” 

“ My lord,” whispered one of his servitors, “ take care 
— those are proclaimed traitors, and to aid them to 
escape entails death and confiscation, by the laws of 
Venice.” 

“ You curdle my blood, rascal,” gasped the old 
I 


The Course of the Admiral, 


79 


man. “ I shall be ruined if they are captured in my 
palace.” 

Signor Duella,” screamed a voice from a corridor 
above, “ the mob is breaking in on the side of Canal St. 
Luke. They are using axes and bars. They threaten 
us with death unless entrance be given.” 

“ Holy St. Paul, defend me !” cried the terrified old 
noble. “ My rare paintings — my choice marbles — 


“ Lead on, old man,” said the Admiral, sternly, as he 
grasped the arm of Signor Duella, — “lead on, or I 
pierce your throat.” 

“ Bear me witness that he forces me to it. You see ? 
This way,” cried Duella, hurrying on through the hall, 

“ I will show you out on the side of Canal Orfano.” 

The name of this Canal smote upon the ears of the 
sailors ominously. It was the name of the canal in 
which were cast the bodies of those secretly executed 
by order of the Council of Three. The slimy ooze of 
its accursed depths had been forages the grave of those 
condemned to secret death, and the people of Venice 
well knew that many who had suddenly disappeared — 
never to be heard of by their friends — might be found 
fish -devoured at the bottom of Canal Orfano. 

“ Haste, old man,” urged the Admiral, sharply, for. 
the roar of the mob at the front of the palace and the 
crash of axes upon the doors were plainly audible. 

“Signor Duella,” shouted one of the servitors of 
the house, rushing forward with a face of alarm. 

“ What now, what now, simpleton ?” exclaimed the 
bewildered noble. “ Give way.” 

“ But shall we not close the rear entrances of the pal- 
ace ? The Canal Orfano is swarmed with the war-barges 
from the fleet filled with sailors who shout, ‘ Give us 


8o 


The Executioner of Ve7tice. 


our Admiral — give us our captain — give us our com- 
rades !’ ” 

“ We are saved,” said the Admiral to Captain Sifredi. 

The sailors heard his words, and uttered a cheer 
which resounded through the great palace. 

The cheer, so lustily given, was heard by the crews 
of the barges mentioned by the palace servitor, and 
recognized. 

A shout, a cheer, pealing from the throats of a thou- 
sand men replied, and the cry was returned by the mob 
which was struggling for admittance in the Canal St. 
Luke. 

* Save us — save me. Saints of all names !” exclaimed 
Signor Duella, clasping his hands. They will meet in 
my palace. Oh, my mirrors — my marbles — my tapis- 
tries — my paintings — my treasury-room !” 

The Admiral and his party hastened on after the 
alarmed patrician, and soon emerged from the rear of 
the palace upon the narrow quay which bordered the 
Canal Orfano. 

There they saw over a hundred of the war-barges to 
the fleet, each manned by those who had often fought 
under the command and eye of the Admiral. 

The appearance of the latter with his comrades was 
hailed by another tremendous shout ; and the foremost 
barge swept up to the quay to receive the fugitives. 

There were many of the Venetian populace already 
rushing toward the Palace di Duella, but the great 
force of the barges held them back. The front 
entrances of the palace having been forced by the great 
pressure of the mob, the spacious edifice resounded 
with cries and clamor. 

“ I am ruined ! Beggary !” shouted old Duella, turn- 
ing to face this torrent of lawless vagabondism. 

“ Stay,” said the Admiral, who had not released his 


The Course of the Admiral. 


8i 


grasp from the arm of the noble. “ You are Signor 
Guicca di Duella ?" 

‘‘ I am that most unfortunate of men,*' cried the old 
man. “ Let me strive to save my marbles, my paint- 
ings, my ” 

“ You are wanted on board the flagship of the 
A^dmiral,*' said Count Robert, sternly. “ Here, men, 
see that this nobleman be cared for. Give him a 
seat in the barge with me. I wish to keep my eye upon 
him.” 

With these words, and having seen all his followers 
embarked in the barges, the Admiral led Signor Duella 
into a boat bearing his own standard. 

“ Give way, my lads. Let us not spill a drop of Vene- 
tian blood if possible. Give way. Pass the word for 
the archers to make show of their strength.” 

The command flew from barge to barge, and in each 
half a score of the expert marksmen of the fleet uprose 
with their weapons ready for action. 

The barges swept towards the port with trained 
steadiness and regularity. The shouting populace, 
awed by the formidable appearance of these soldiers of 
the sea, recoiled as the cross-bows of the archers were 
aimed at their faces. 

“ Cast a stone now,” said he who had been addressed 
as Giovanni, to his comrade. Will any dare be so 
bold ?” 

“ Perhaps not, Giovanni. This is no sudden tumult 
to be quelled by a stare of the patricians. But let us 
in. There is rare plundering in the Palace di Duella.” 

“ Very true ; but here comes the City Guard to speak 
with the plunderers,” replied his comrade, as a strong 
body of disciplined troops came into sight, led by the 
Duke di Parmetta. 

The flotilla of barges had already moved on, regard- 


82 


The Executioner of Venice. 


less of the various threats hurled upon it by the popu- 
lace and sundry jealous officials of the State. 

Parmetta, whose influence was greater than that of 
any other noble of Venice, dreaded to attempt the arrest 
of the rear barges, lest the vengeance of the sailors 
might be turned upon him. He saw that the cause of 
the Admiral was strong ; he knew that a plot by no 
means despicable was on foot to overthrow that despotic 
government of which he was a most hated member. 

For the present, therefore, the Admiral was safe, 
able to reach his ships and to put to sea ; and Ihr- 
metta, in no amiable mood, was ready to vent his 
spleen upon the nearest victim. 

Perceiving that the palace of Signor Duella was being 
plundered by the vagabonds of the mob, he ordered the 
guards to drive them out, arrest and show no mercy. 

“ Do the vermin imagine that, as one traitor has for 
the moment escaped, there is no law in Venice Upon 
them !” 

“ Stay, my lord,” whispered a grave-faced patrician, 
laying his hand upon Parmetta’s sleeve. “ The Doge is 
dead, and Venice has no head.” 

“ Dead ? When, Signor Roullo T* 

“ Not ten minutes since.” 

“ See that the Council of Three Hundred be convened 
immediately. A new Doge must be elected at once.” 

The guards used their weapons freely among those 
who had so eagerly thronged into the Duella palace, 
cutting, thrusting and slashing without mercy, and 
meeting with more resistance than they expected. 

Signor Duella was not a popular patrician. He was 
hated by the people for his great influence in grinding 
them down with heavy taxes — a department of the 
government chiefly under his control. But Signor 
Duella was the kinsman of Parmetta, and the latter was 


The Course of the Admiral. 83 


not a man to stand idly by while the property of his 
kinsman was being destroyed. 

The palace was soon cleared of all intruders, though 
many a deep stain of blood, here and there, with the 
ghastly evidence of several bleeding bodies, proved that 
great violence had been used. 

Parmetta had turned to leave the palace, after station- 
ing a strong guard for its protection, when Sizera rushed 
into his presence, exclaiming : 

“Justice, my lord ! Justice!” 

“ What now ?” demanded Parmetta, testily. “ This is 
no time to worry me with womanish complaints.” 

” My lord, it is said that the Doge is dead, and all 
know that Gaspola di Parmetta is next in rank and 
power,” said Sizera. “ I demand that my child be 
restored to me.” 

“ Your child ? What child ?” 

“ My adopted daughter — my child by the laws of Ven- 
ice. There she is, in the gondola of Signor Marco, your 
lordship’s son.” 

She pointed to the gondola of the young patrician, 
floating slowly along not twenty paces from them. 

Parmetta frowned as he recognized the presence of 
his son, and said : 

“Come. You shall regain the maiden. Follow me 
I have little time to lose in this affair.” 



CHAPTER VIIT. 

THE REVOLT OF THE PATRICIANS. 

The gondola of Signor Marco, after the French ambas- 
sador had received Fiorina tinder his protection, had 
become wedged among a score of others, so that but 
slow progress was made by the gondolier. 

Still his skill, and the presence of Signor Marco, grad- 
ually forced the others aside, until the gondola shot 
from the scene of confusion and floated alone. 

Sizera, who had speedily effected her escape from her 
involuntary bath, left her companions to shift for them- 
selves, and hurried on in pursuit of the fugitives. 

She saw the removal of Fiorina from the barge to the 
gondola of Signor Marco with great surprise and greater 
delight. Her influence with Gaspola di Parmetta was 
not small, and she hurried to gain his aid in recovering 
Fiorina. 

As we have stated, Parmetta promised her demand 
at once. 

“Marco!” cried he, extending his hand toward the 
gondola and beckoning for him to draw near. 

Signor Marco nodded to his gondolier, and in a 
moment the prow of the boat touched the quay. 

Sizera, fierce and impatient to grasp her victim, sprang 
forward to leap into the gondola ; but the young patri- 
cian commanded her not to put her foot upon it 

“ Back, hag ! Are you mad ?” 

[84] 


The Revolt of the Patricians, 


85 


“Justice !“ screamed Sizera. “ I want my daughter.” 

“ Marco,” said his father, sternly, “ is it possible that 
you have stooped to abduct the daughter of this woman ? 
Good heavens, are there not enough light-of-love dames 
and damsels in Venice to satisfy yoii. Must you fall in 
love with the hangman’s daughter ?” 

“ Enough, sir,” interrupted Signor Marco, haughtily. 
“ I have had nothing to do with the presence of this 
maiden in my gondola.” 

“She is under my protection. Signor Parmetta,” 
said the ambassador. 

“ I do not understand, Sieur D’Abrette, how a 
foreigner can claim th^ protection of a Venetian sub- 
ject in Venice. The girl is the adopted child of this 
woman. I am sorry that I must insist upon her instant 
restoration,” replied Parmetta, much surprised that 
the French ambassador should meddle in the affair. 

“ I am also sorry. Signor, to reply that I will not give 
her up to the cruelties of that vile woman,” returned 
D’Abrette, firmly. 

The swarthy face of the proud Venetian flushed with 
passion at these bold words. But he remembered that 
he was addressing the ambassador of a powerful mon- 
arch who was ever ready to grasp any pretext for war 
that might be offered, and, restraining his indignation, 
he said, gravely : 

“ Sieur D’Abrette, you cannot be expected to know 
much of the laws of Venice — ” 

“ On the contrary. Signor, I am well acquainted with 
them. The laws of Venice have no power over the 
subjects of France. I claim the right to protect this 
maiden because she is a French subject.” 

“ It is false ! It is false !” screamed Sizera, brandish- 
ing her fists. 

“ Silence,” commanded Parmetta. “ This is a subject 


86 


The Execut{o7ter of Vefitce. 


for the decision of the Senate. You have made a 
strange claim, Sieur D’Abrette. We would preserve 
amicable relations with France, our ally, yet we would 
lack in dignity to permit the rights of our own subjects 
to be violated by anyone.” 

“ What says the law ?” screamed the cracked voice of 
old Rapal, who, with Salbano and Balthazar had now 
arrived, dripping and short of breath. “ What says the 
law ? ‘No subject of Venice, high or low, mean or 
great, shall — ’ ” 

“ Hold your tongue,” said Salbano. “ Did you never 
see that keen-eyed Frenchman till now ? It is the 
ambassador of the great Emperer. Something has leaked 
out. Let us be careful.” 

“ The rights of no subject of Venice shall be molested 
by me, Signor Parmetta,” remarked the ambassador, 
with cold haughtiness. “ I am willing that the matter 
shall go before the Senate.” 

“ In the meantime,” observed Parmetta, “ the maiden 
must remain in the charge of the State.” 

“ I will guard her well, my lords,” cried Sizera, exult- 
ingly. She shall be forthcoming when called for.” 

“ My lord, do not, I pray you, deliver me for one 
instant into the hands of Sizera,” exclaimed Fiorina. 

“ Peace, poor child,” said the ambassador, in a gentle 
tone. “ Into her hands you shall never be cast again.” 

“ Unless the Senate of Venice shall so decree,” 
remarked Parmetta. 

“ The Senate will not so decree. Signor,” replied the 
ambassador. “ Meanwhile, I will take care of the 
maiden — ” 

“ I thought this silly affair was some freak of folly 
springing from the brain of my son, Marco,” said Par-, 
metta, sarcastically, “but it seems that even gray-beards 
can be made foolish by red lips and sparkling eyes 


The Revolt of the Patricians. 8'7 


Take care of her then, Sir Ambassador, but remember 
that the matter will be brought before the Senate.” 

“ As soon as you please. The sooner the better. 
Signor. Now Signor Marco, may I ask of you the favor 
to introduce me to some worthy patrician lady whose 
kindness will see to the comfort of Donna Fiorina ?” 

Signor Marco bowed gravely his assent, and his father 
said scoffingly : 

“ Take care, Sieur D’Abrette, that you do not confide 
your tender lamb to the care of a young and hungry 
wolf. I have heard it rumored that a certain Signor 
Marco hath often cast a longing eye iipon the heads- 
man’s daughter.” 

Signor Marco disdained to reply to this taunt, and 
was about to command his servitor to move on, when a 
high official of the State forced his way through the 
crowd upon the quay and called out : 

“ Stay one moment. Signor Marco. The Council of 
Ten commands your immediate presence.” 

“ Commands !” exclaimed Signor Marco. 

“ Such are my orders,” continued the official, as the 
gondola of the State glided to the side of that of Signor 
Marco. 

“ So I am arrested,” said he. “ I owe this to whom, 
Gaspola di Parmetta ?” 

To yourself, no doubt,” replied his father, coldly. 

“ You would trample upon the head of your only son 
to become Doge of Venice,” retorted the young patri- 
cian. “ I resist the arrest !” 

“ You dare resist ! Defy the Senate !” cried Parmetta. 
“ Has all become anarchy in the State 

“ Yes — or nearly so, Gaspola di Parmetta, under your 
evil influence,” replied Signor Marco, bitterly. “ Tell 
the noble Council that I will attend their call presently 
— not as a criminal, but as a judge.” 


88 


TJlc Executioner of Venice. 


With these daring words he made a gesture to his 
gondolier, and the boat sprang from the quay. 

“ Stop,” whispered Parmetta to the official, who was 
about to resort to violent measures. “ These are dan- 
gerous times for Venice, and we must move with cau- 
tion. Have you arrested many ?” 

“ Not one of the many upon my list. In fact, I have 
but just received it. How is it, ray lord, that I see upon 
this list of accused the names of two* thirds of the young 
patricians of Venice ?” 

“ Because the conspiracy is most serious. Signor. Let 
me at once to the palace of the Doge. Arrest all you 
can. We must possess the heads of the plot.” 

“ Watch !” whispered Sizera to Balthazar, “ see 
where they place the girl. No doubt the Senate will 
adjudge that she be restored to us ; yet I do not like 
that Signor Marco.” 

“ Signor Marco is my friend, or his own,” repled Bal- 
thazar. “ I noticed that he frowned upon me just 
now — ” 

“ Oh ! then you and he have had your secret plans 
about Fiorina,” said Sizera, as they moved along the 
narrow pavement, keeping the gondola of Signor Marco 
in view. 

“ I may as well tell you now, since there is little pros- 
pect that I shall ever possess Fiorina \ for now that those 
great men have the affair in hand, she is lost to me.” 

“ Silly fool ! we will recover her, never fear. But of 
you and Signor Marco ?” 

“ He was to pay me a thousand ducats if I placed the 
girl in his power,” growled Balthazar ; “ and but for 
your vigilance I had won the gold long^^ince. What 
with your bolts and locks and sharp wakefulness, I 
would have carried her off a score of times.” 

“ A thousand ducats ! Booby ! do you know that if 


The Revolt of the Patriciafis. 


89 


you were the husband of Fiorina she would be more 
valuable than ten thousand ducats to you ?” snarled 
Sizera, spitefully. 

“ Yes, so you and Salbano and Rapal have dinned 
into my ears this year and more. I do not love her, 
and she hates me as if I were a snake or a spider. A 
thousand ducats in hand are worth a million of your 
promises.” 

“ Listen,” whispered Sizera. “ I will tell you some- 
thing which may give gpirit to your zeal.” 

She whispered a few words in his ear, the effect of 
which made him start with surprise. 

Not a word !” she said. “ Do not breathe of this to 
anyone.” 

“ Not I, by my life !” cried Balthazar, with unusual 
animation, and running away. 

“ You have told him the secret,” said Salbano, who, 
with Rapal, had followed closely. 

“Why not? Do you know, the ignorant fool had 
bargained with Signor Marco fona thousand ducats to 
place the girl in his power. What think you of that ? 
Was it not time to let Balthazar know the value of 
Fiorina as his wife ?” 

“ But why is Signor Marco so eager to gain possession 
of the girl ?” demanded Salbano, fiercely. 

“ Because he is madly in love with her.” 

“ That may be. I hope so. But Signor Marco has a 
deep brain, nor is he the careless gallant he seems. No 
matter. I am weak and must see a leech. These ban- 
dages are loose, and my wounds are bleeding afresh. 
Do you and Rapal follow on after Signor Marco.” 

With these words Salbano turned aside into a small 
house, while Sizera and Rapal passed on. 

Rapal, unable to keep up with the long strides of his 


go The Exectdioner of Venice. 


daughter-in-law, soon fell far behind, and lost sight not 
only of the gondola but also of Sizera. 

“ So, all desert the old man,” he muttered, pausing in 
anger. “ Rapal is nobody. Rapal, who planned it all, 
must be left behind.” 

He sat down upon a block of marble to catch breath, 
nor had he sat there long before some one tapped him 
upon the shoulder. 

He raised his eyes and beheld a woman, old but 
bright-eyed, who gazed into his face with a stare, which 
plainly said : 

“ Rapal Vecci, do you know me ?” 

“ If he did not at once, his pale face and trembling 
limbs proved that he suspected something perilous to 
him was near. 

His voice seemed to have fled, for he only stared and 
trembled. 

“ I am in Venice to claim my child,” said the stranger 
abruptly. 

“ She — she is dead, woman,” he stammered. 

“ Since when, Rapal ?” demanded the woman, 
sharply. 

“ Since — since — why, she died a year after you gave 
her to me.” 

“ Liar !” said the woman. “ I have secretly visited 
Venice once a year every year since I gave the girl into 
your hands. Fiorina Tullosa is that child. Deny it if 
you dare !’ 

But he did not deny it. He stared in wild dismay, 
and held his tongue. 

Here was a woman, alive and menacing, whom he 
had thought dead for years. In fact, he had received a 
message, which purported to come from her on her 
death-bed, twelve years before. 

“ I have just come from Salbano’s house, which I 


The Revolt of the Patricia^is. 


91 


found empty, yet bearing proofs of the recent presence 
of my child. I have been in her room — I have seen her 
garments. Where is my child ?” 

Rapal still made no reply. His ideas were in a state 
of wild bewilderment, and his wits at a loss what to say. 

“ Speak, Rapal, or dread my anger. Where is my 
child ?" 

“ My lady,” at length said the old man, in a humble 
tone, “ I am sorry to say that to me the child is dead.” 

“ I do not understand you. What do you mean when 
you say that the child is dead to you ?” 

“ She is no longer in my power, lady. This morning 
she was carried off by Admiral da Velli — ” 

” She loved him, or he her ?” 

“ It was mutual, lady, no doubt.” 

“ Unfortunate child !” exclaimed the stranger. 
“ Little did I know when I confided her to your care 
that you were the Executioner of Venice ; and when I 
learned the truth I was afraid to claim her, for all my 
actions were closely watched by the enemies of the girl. 
Carried off ! But where may I find this Admiral ?” 

“ I must further state,” said Rapal, speaking slowly 
that he might gain time to collect his ideas, ” that the 
Admiral, being pursued by the laws of Venice, gave the 
maiden in charge of the French ambassador.” 

“ Is the ambassador a friend of the Admiral ?” 

“ No doubt, lady ; though when Sizera, my son’s wife, 
demanded that the girl be restored to her, the ambassa- 
dor claimed Fiorina as a subject of France.” 

” A subject of France ! Great heaven ! Who is this 
ambassador ? What is his name ?” 

“ He is called Sieur D’Abrette.” 

“ I do not know any French noble of that name,” said 
the stranger, reflecting. “ Sieur D’Abrette ?” 

“ True ! And as I live, there he is in the gondola of 
/ 


92 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Signor Marco,” replied Rapal, with great animation. 
“ And Fiorina may be with him still — She is ! You see 
her looking forth from the curtains. Not a word, lady ; 
I know all. Perhaps this ambassador has heard some- 
thing.” 

The stranger drew her veil over her face and gazed 
intently at the approaching gondola, which, for reasons 
to be related, had changed its course, and was now 
returning. 

The striking countenance of the ambassador, as well 
as his lofty form, was plainly visible as he and Signor 
Marco stood erect upon the stand of the gondolier. 

“Is that the ambassador?” whispered the veiled 
stranger, grasping Rapal’s arm. 

“ Yes, lady, that is the Sieur D’Abrette, and I wonder 
why they come this way.” 

“ They intend to land at this quay. Let us stand 
aside,” whispered the stranger, in tones of extreme agi- 
tation. “ It is my child ; and she must not remain in 
the power of that man, of all men on the earth.” 

She drew the old man aside and awaited the landing 
of the gondola, whose change of course we must hasten 
to explain. 

After his refusal to be arrested. Signor Marco ordered 
his gondolier to hasten to the palace of Donna Isabella, 
his aunt, the sister of his late mother, that being the 
most suitable refuge for Fiorina in his mind. 

“ Donna Isabella,” remarked the ambassador, when 
the noble had informed him of his purpose, “ may be 
too proud to willingly receive into her house one who 
has lived so long as the adopted daughter of the hang- 
man.” 

“ My aunt will hesitate at nothing to please me,” was 
the assuring reply of Signor Marco, with a careless laugh. 

“ Ah I then she loves you greatly ?” asked the amba^- 


The Revolt of the Patricians. 


93 


sador, fixing his sharp eyes upon the handsome face of 
the apparently reckless patrician. “ Still, it is my desire 
that this maiden shall be treated as if she were of the 
noblest family of Venice.’* 

“ At ,my request, Sieur D’Abrette, Donna Isabella will 
treat her as if she were a princess.” 

“ It is well,” replied the ambassador gravely. “ There 
is a mystery connected with the maiden which you may 
soon learn.” 

Few words more were exchanged. The ambassador 
became severe in feature as he ceased to speak, and 
Signor Marco had much upon his mind. 

For all he assumed a gay and careless air, serious 
thoughts were working in his ambitious brain. It could 
be readily perceived that the city was in great commo- 
tion — not loud in its expression, but profound. The 
faces of the chief citizens, as they hurried here and 
there, whispering and gesticulating, showed that some- 
thing of great moment had occurred, or was about to 
happen. 

The young patrician marked all these signs closely, 
though, to a casual observer, there was little that was 
deep or politic in his air. His gay dress, graceful man- 
ner, and light, laughing greeting to all, seemed to stamp 
him as a mere idle gallant, a butterfly intent upon mere 
ephemeral enjoyment. 

The ambassador, however, was too experienced in 
reading the true characters of men to be deceived even 
by Signor Marco. He had noticed the fire of the young 
noble’s eye, the deep defiance of his tone, and the firm- 
ness of his bearing as he boldly refused to submit to 
arrest. 

It had not escaped his shrewd vigilance that the man- 
ner of Signor Marco towards Fiorina was far different 
from that which would mark the bearing of a lover. 


94 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ He has heard that she is not of low birth,’' thought 
the Frenchman as he reflected. “ Nothing rude in 
speech, eye, or gesture has escaped him towards the 
maiden. Neither does he love her for her beauty. The 
fact that the Admiral loved her, and that she Igved the 
Admiral, was certainly a surprise to Signor Marco. 
More than mere friendship actuated the motives of this 
young noble.” 

At this stage of the ambassador’s reflections, the gon- 
dolier declared that much time would be lost in pursu- 
ing his present course towards the palace of Donna 
Isabella. 

This remark caused the ambassador to look to the 
scene. Not only were the narrow pavements crowded, 
but the canals. Everybody seemed to have left his 
house to hurry about, either on land or upon water. 

Gondolas bearing the devices of every patrician house 
were afloat, and the faces of their lordly occupants were 
grave and anxious. 

Bodies of the mercenary troops of the Republic were 
passing over the various bridges and along the quay. 

The stream of armed and unarmed, with a few 
exceptions, moved steadily in a difection which pointed 
toward the great square of St. Mark. 

“We must go back for some distance,” said Signor 
Marco. “ All Venice seems moving.” 

The course of the gondola was changed, and it glided 
swiftly back over its late course. 

“ Land there,” said Signor Marco, pointing at the quay 
near which stood Rapal and the veiled stranger. 

“ Ah, we are to leave the gondola ?” asked the ambas- 
sador. 

“We must,” replied the noble, pointing down the 
canal. “ The barges of the fleet are returning.” 

The ambassador saw with surprise that the war-boats 


The Revolt of the Fleet. 


95 


of the Admiral were in sight — moving steadily, three 
abreast — and he recognized the tall, Avarlike figure of 
the Admiral in the bow of the foremost barge. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE REVOLT OF THE FLEET. 

“ Is it your wish to restore Donna Fiorina to the care 
of the Admiral ?” asked Signor Marco, suddenly grasp- 
ing the oar of the gondolier, and turning the prow 
towards the barges. 

“ No,” exclaimed the ambassador. “ Land, and let us 
hasten to the palace of Donna Isabella.” 

A covert smile curled the lip of the noble, and a 
sweep of the oar sent the gondola ^racgfully to the quay. 

“ Let us be speedy,” said the ambassador, as he hastily 
assisted Fiorina from the gondola to the quay. 

Fiorina, however, was no sooner upon the land than 
Sizera and Balthazar, who had followed every move- 
ment of the gondola, ran towards her shouting : 

“ Rescue — rescue, Venetians !” 

“ Back, you fools !” cried Rapal, hastening forward 
to prevent this rash action. 

He was too late to save them from instant punish- 
ment, for, as Sizera stretched out her great hands to 
grasp the maiden, the bodyguardsman of the ambassa- 
dor dealt her a blow in the face with his fist, which 
dashed her to the ground. At the same moment. Sig- 
nor Marco struck Balthazar aside with a baton he drew 
from his bosom. 


96 


The Exectitioner of Venice, 


No sooner was this baton seen than a hundred like it 
appeared in the hands of as many men. 

They were short clubs, decorated at the end with a 
rosette of crimson silk. They appeared, as if by magic, 
everywhere on the quays, the pavements, in the gon- 
dolas, and in the approaching barges. 

Signor Marco, leader of the conspiracy, so recently 
suspected, in showing his baton had given the signal to 
his abettors and associates. 

Signor Marco was no longer the gay and careless 
gallant of the day. His face became stern and com- 
manding ; and, baring his head that all might know 
him, he shouted : 

“ To the square of St. Marco ! Down with the 
tyrants of Venice ! Give way there for His Excellency 
the Ambassador of France.” 

The shouts of the populace, shouting for they knew 
not what, but ever ready to engage in a revolution, 
rolled from street to street^ and were answered by the 
crowded barges as they swept between the densely 
thronged pavements and quays of the canals. 

The great bell of the city began to toll, showing that 
the authorities were alarmed, and calling together their 
strength. 

“Give way,” commanded Signor Marco — “ Give way.” 

“ Fortune of France,” thundered the powerful voice 
of the ambassador, as he passed one arm around the 
slender form of Fiorina, and with the other drew his 
long, twO'Cdged sword. 

“ St. Mark !” roared the hoarse accents of Salbano, as 
he forced his way forward, followed and surrounded by 
a score of the most desperate ruffians of the city — “ St. 
Mark ! shall a beggarly Frenchman rob us of our 
daughters ?” 

“ The State !” shouted an official of the Senate — the 


The Revolt of the Fleet. 


97 


same who had already made an attempt to arrest Signor 
Marco, — “ Seize the traitor. Arrest every man that 
has a baton.” 

“ Fortune of France,” again thundered that powerful 
voice. 

And a score of men, well armed and disciplined, 
darted from the increasing crowd, and ranged them- 
selves around the ambassador. 

No collision had yet taken place, for the citizens were 
totally surprised by this sudden revelation of a formidable 
conspiracy. Mere slaves of the patricians, they knew 
nothing of the existence of a plot among their masters, 
and the numerous retainers of each patrician famil}^ 
were at a loss to decide to which faction their aid was 
due. 

“ My lord has a baton,” cried one. “ I am for the 
baton.” 

“ My lord has shown no baton,” cried another. “ I 
am for the State. Ah, he takes a baton from his bosom. 
I am for the baton !” 

“ A goodly season ! A rare and plenteous season !” 
croaked old Rapal, who had scrambled upon the block 
of marble and was overlooking the scene. “ There will 
be a harvest, go whichever way it may. Hangings, 
beheadings, torturings, secret executions, lashings ! Go 
in, my children ; to arms ! fight ! It is all the same to 
old Rapal !” 

“ Forward !” said the ambassador, as he saw that the 
Admiral’s barge had almost reached the quay. “ It 
would never sound well in France,” he muttered, as he 
strode on, “ if this maiden should visit Count Robert’s 
ship without the blessing of a priest.” 

The crowd gave way before the formidable front pre- 
sented by the Frenchman and his escort, and closed in 


The Executiofier of Venice. 


98 


behind them as the barge of the Admiral touched the 
quay. 

vSignor Marco, secretly unwilling that the maiden 
should pass again under the protection of the Admiral, 
met him as he sprang ashore, saying : 

“ Why have you returned ?” 

“ To rescue my friends,” was the prompt reply. 
“ But first let me see that Donna Fiorina ” 

“She is in safe hands. Count Robert,” interrupted 
Signor Marco, hastily. “ The French ambassador is 
bearing her to the palace of my aunt. But you said 
that you had returned to rescue your friends. Who are 
arrested Do not follow the ambassador ! He is able 
to take care of the lady.” 

“ Then you know who he is V asked the Admiral. 

“ I suspect ; no more. But who are arrested ?” 

“ I do not know ; though as we moved toward the fleet 
information was given to us that you and others were 
seized by the officials, and, as my force is strong, I 
returned. It is plain that the plot is known to our 
enemies, and we have nothing now to do but fight.” 

“ 1 am certain of your support ?” asked the Venetian. 

“ Have I not pledged my word ?” replied the Admiral. 
“ Is there not one imprisoned beneath the Leads most 
dear to me ? Can he be set at liberty while the present 
Senate is in power ? Since the maiden is in the charge of 
Sieur D’ Abrette, let us finish our work or perish in the 
attempt. Do you know that the fleet of your cousin. 
Admiral Chaoga — your enemy and my foe — is entering 
the port ? Come, make quick work of this matter, or it 
will end in our ruin.” 

“ You see that the signal has been given. Our friends 
are moving. Land your sailors at the quays nearest the 
Square of St. Mark, and we will seize the Senate.” 

The Admiral, no longer being able to see the ambas- 


The Revolt of the Fleet. 


99 


sador amid the dense crowd, returned to his barge, and 
waving his sword, shouted : 

“ St. Mark ! To the great square !” 

The barges moved on, each crew taking up the shout 
until it rang like a doom in the ears of those assembled 
in the chambers of the Senate. 

The progress of the’ French ambassador towards the 
palace of Donna Isabella was slow. Unwilling to shed 
Venetian blood, whether that of the senseless mob 
which opposed his advance, or of the numerous officials 
of the State, he commanded his followers to use their 
arms only in self-defence. 

•“ Lead us to the palace of Donna Isabella di Valludi,” 
cried the ambassador, as he grasped old Rapal by the 
collar. “ But you are too old,” he added, casting him 
aside as suddenly as he had seized him, and glancing 
around for a more suitable person. 

Rapal had crowded his way along the packed pave- 
ment, and the veiled woman had clung to his arm, 
whispering : ' 

“ Do not lose sight of my child !” 

The ambassador, as he moved on, ignorant of his 
proper course, was about to seize another of the popu- 
lace as a guide, when the stranger rushed forward 
exclaiming : 

“ Follow me ! I will aid you ! I will guide you. It 
grieves my heart, noble sir, to see so fair and young a 
lady in this peril.” 

“ I trust no one masked or veiled,” said the cautious 
ambassador, grasping the veil of the stranger and tear- 
ing it off. 

“ St. Jude !” he exclaimed, as he saw the features 
beneath the veil. “ Are you in Venice also ? On your 
life, dare not intimate who I am. Here, Perrot, take 


lOO 


The Executioner of Venice. 


this lady in charge, and see to it that she does not 
escape.” 

“ Oh, do not harm her, noble sir,” cried Fiorina, as 
she saw that face of despair and terror. “ She is a 
woman. Do not harm her.” 

“ A woman ! Rather a devil,” replied the ambassa- 
dor. “Beware of her if you value your life. Here, 
rascal,” he added, addressing one of th6 mob, “ earn five 
golden ducats by leading us to the palace of Donna 
Isabella di Valludi.” 

‘‘ At your service, great sir. This way,” replied the 
man, at once eagerly seizing the offer. 

“ Follow close,” whispered Salbano to his followers. 
“ They must pass over the Bridge Angelo presently, and, 
as it is very narrow, a sudden charge may separate the 
girl from the ambassador. Be ready, Sizera.” 

“ Why tell me to be ready ?” snarled the giantess. 
“ Make the opportunity and see what will happen.” 

The retreating party soon reached the bridge, which 
was already crowded with excited people. But the guide 
of the ambassador advanced, shouting : 

“ Take heed ! Way for his High Excellence, the 
Ambassador of the great Emperor ! Make way ! make 
way !” 

The sight of the long and glittering swords of the 
ambassador’s followers caused the crowd to try to open 
a passage over the narrow bridge, and much confusion 
prevailed as some struggled to advance and others to 
retreat. 

In the height of the confusion, Salbano shouted : 

“ Rescue ! Rescue the daughters of Venice !” 

His vagabonds sprang forward, hustling and jostling 
the crowd and creating a panic by their shouts. 

The armed followers of the ambassador, pressed upon 
each other, were unable to use their arms, and their 


The Revolt of the Fleet. 


lOI 


leader, who seemed to comprehend the plot, ordered 
them to use their daggers in forcing their way. 

His men-at-arms now faced those nearest them, strik- 
ing indiscriminately all within reach. No mob could 
withstand this furious and merciless onset, especially as 
the long sword of the ambassador swept a broad space 
before him at every stride. Amid the din of shouts, 
yells and cries of terror, the bridge gave way beneath 
the immense weight upon it, and the crowd was precip- 
itated into the canal beneath. 

A dreadful scene of confusion now ensued as those in 
the water struggled to escape. 

The ambassador was among those who remained upon 
a fragment of the bridge which had not fallen. His left 
arm still encircled the waist of Fiorina, and his voice 
was as defiant as ever. Nearly all his followers, how- 
ever, were struggling in the water. 

As he paused for a moment to glance at the scene, 
Sizera sprang upon Fiorina, while Balthazar and two ol 
his comrades grasped his sword arm. 

The struggle lasted but an instant, for the gigantic 
strength of the Frenchman freed his arm with a single 
tremendous exertion. The daggers of the three assas- 
sins were turned aside by D’Abrette’s coat of mail, and 
in the twinkling of an eye his formidable sword struck 
down two of them. 

Balthazar leaped into the canal to escape the blow 
aimed at his head, while Sizera, failing to overcome the 
strength of the arm which encircled Fiorina, and infuri- 
ated to madness, grasped the throat of the ambassador 
in her tigar-like claws. 

Salbano and his comrades now rushed upon the 
Frenchman, and to defend himself he was forced to use 
his left arm. 

He scattered his foes in a moment, but Fiorina was 


102 


The Executioner of Venice. 


lost to him. Sizera had snatched her away and a crowd 
closed in between the unfortunate maiden and her pro- 
tector. 

“Save me! Save me!” cried the poor girl, whom 
the giantess had tossed upon her shoulder, holding her 
with one arm^ while she fought her way through the 
populace. 

The ambassador was unable to save her at the 
moment. The Venetians, irritated by the fall of many 
of their number, attempted to strike him down or force 
him into the canal. This he resisted with astonishing 
skill and strength, until his surviving followers, escap- 
ing from the canal, again closed around him. 

“ Forward ! Do not lose sight of the maiden. For- 
tune of France !” shouted the Frenchman, and as there 
was now room to ply their swords and halberts, his 
body-guard rapidly swept aside all opposition. 

Still Sizera would have succeeded in carrying off 
Fiorina had it not been for the jealous care of the absent 
Admiral. 

She was suddenly met by a strong force of sailors led 
by Captain Andrea, and beaten down while the captain 
rescued the now unconscious maiden. 

Bruised, beaten and trampled upon, Sizera crawled 
into an archway, while Andrea, perceiving the ambas- 
sador, pushed on and met him. 

“ She is not hurt, I trust,” said D’Abrette, taking the 
maiden in his arms tenderly. “ I would rather lose an 
eye than that she should be injured.” 

“ She is unhurt, my lord,” replied Captain Andrea, 
with great respect, “ but she should receive attention 
immediately.” 

“ Lead the way to the palace of Donna Valludi, cap- 
tain,” said the ambassador, hastily ; and added, to one 


The Revolt of the Fleet, 


03 


of his followers : “ See to it that none of our brave 
soldiers are left behind wounded.” 

“ I will attend to that, my lord,” remarked Andrea, 
“ The people are excited, and a new attack may be 
made upon foreigners.” 

“I arrest you, Manuel Andrea !” cried one of the 
officers of the Senate, more brave than prudent, or 
trusting too far in the terrors of his office — “ in the 
name of the Senate of Venice.” 

The captain instantly buried his sword in the breast 
of the rash officer ; and, as his followers tossed the body 
into the canal, called out : 

“ So much for the Senate of Venice.” 

This act created a panic which cleared the narrow 
pavements. It vras now fearfully plain to the populace 
that, not only was there a revolution begun, but that 
the officers of the fleet were in open rebellion against 
the Senate. 

“ Let us home,*’ said one citizen to another, as he 
hurried away ; “ there are bloody times upon us.” 

“ Aye, it is among our masters, the patricians, and the 
officers of the fleet; but the people will be crushed 
more than ever. Let us home and barricade our 
houses.” 

No further opposition was made to the progress of 
the ambassador. Salbano, Balthazar, Rapal and their 
swarm of assassins had fled. Sizera, too, stole away. 
A deep silence fell upon the late noisy and clamorous 
streets. Even those who bore away those who were 
slain or wounded in the recent affray spoke in whis- 
pers, and their looks were looks of fear. 

On reaching the palace of Donna Isabella, the ambas- 
sador was met by a grave and stately lady, who saluted 
him with marked and unusual respect, saying : 

“ My lord, I have just received a message from my 


104 


The Executioner of Venice. 


nephew, by which I am desired to place my palace at 
your command. Please enter. The maiden shall be 
well and tenderly cared for.” 

“ Thanks, lady. You see she is in a swoon. I pray 
you have her attended to at once,” replied the ambas- 
sador, as he gave up his charge. 

“ Bear the maiden to my own apartments,” said 
Donna Isabella to several of her female attendants, 
“ and see that my palace physician be summoned 
instantly.” 

As the servants obeyed her commands, the ambas- 
sador said : 

“ Lady, you will pardon me if I station a guard of my 
followers around your palace. The safety of the maiden 
is more important to me than I may tell.” 

“ There is no need, my lord, of that,” replied Donna 
Isabella, quickly. Your lordship perceives that my 
nephew has already taken measures to protect my 
palace.” 

The ambassador saw that plainly. It was evident 
that the palace was strongly guarded by armed men 
wearing the livery of Signor Marco. 

It was evident also to the suspicious mind of the 
Frenchman that Donna Isabella did not desire any of 
his followers as a guard. 

But Sieur D’Abrette, as he saw fit to call himself, was 
a resolute man, accustomed to have his resolves carried 
out, and with an air of authority singularly impressive, 
he replied : 

“The lady is a subject of France, and Frenchmen 
must aid in her protection. Guards, see to it that Donna 
Fiorina does not leave this palace, voluntarily or invol- 
untarily, without an order from me.” 

“Ah! then the maiden is a prisoner of State,” 
remarked Donna Isabella in surprise. 


The Revolt of the Fleet. 


105 


“ A prisoner of France,” replied the ambassador. 

Then, after a few whispered commands to one of his 
followers, he placed his hand on the arm of Captain An- 
drea, saying- : 

“ Now, my friend, let ns hasten to the palace of the 
Doge.” 

They moved away, and Donna Isabella went to see 
Fiorina, reflecting thus as she ascended the broad stairs 
of her palace : 

“ Who is this ambassador ? D’Abrette ? D’Abrette ? 
I have never heard of him. D’Abrette ? An ambassador 
with the bearing of an Emperor ? Who can he be — and 
as for that, what is this low-born maiden to him, or to 
France ? Fiorina Tullosa— yes, that is her name. The 
same maiden of whom Marco has spoken so much to 
me of late. The hangman’s adopted daughter, a pris- 
oner of France !” 

Donna Isabella had much upon her mind to cause her 
great anxiety, for she knew that her nephew was one of 
the chief leaders of the revolution then going on — a rev- 
olution which might fail and cause him the loss of his 
head. Perhaps her own head might fall also into the 
blood-stained basket of the executioner ; for she had 
taken an active, though a secret, part in bringing about 
the revolution ; yet, for the time, her curiosity forced 
aside her anxiety, and led her to hasten to hold a con- 
versation with this mysterious child of misfortune, of 
whom Signor Marco thought even in the whirlpool of 
dangerous acts ; of whom the French ambassador said, 
“ She is a prisoner of France and whom, report said, 
the great Admiral Robert da Velli loved as the apple of 
his eye. 

Eager to see Fiorina, she hastened to enter the apart- 
ment to which the maiden had been borne by her attend- 
ants. 



CHAPTER X. 

,THE REVOLT OF THE PEOPLE. 

Donna Isabella’s desire to converse with Fiorina was 
not gratified so soon as she expected. The swoon lasted 
for more than an hour, so exhausted was her system 
from over excitement. 

“ She is most wondrously fair, my lady,” said the aged 
physician of the palace, as Fiorina at length opened her 
beautiful dark eyes and gazed around. 

“ Magnificently beautiful,” replied Donna Isabella, 
admiring that lovely and amiable face. “ I have often 
heard of the beauty of the headsman’s daughter, but I 
had no thought that she was thus charming.” 

“ It is said, my lady, that the illustrious Signor Marco 
is deeply enamored,” began the garrulous physician. 

But a glance from the lady closed his lips. Donna 
Isabella was too haughty to allow such matters to be 
spoken of in her presence without her permission. 

Fiorina, too, was gazing towards them, so that Donna 
Isabella advanced at once to the couch upon which she 
was lying, saying : 

“ Do not rise, my child. You are in the palace 
Di Valludi.” 

“ The dreadful Sizera ! oh, save me from her !’’ 
exclaimed Fiorina, springing to her feet, as she remem- 
bered the wife of the Executioner. 

[io6] 


T'he Revolt of the People. 


07 


“ Her mind wanders, does it not ?” asked Donna 
Isabella, as she noticed the expression of terror upon 
Fiorina’s features. 

“ Sizera is the name of the wife of Salbano, the Chief 
Executioner,” replied the physician, crossing himself, 
and muttering : 

“ Heaven deliver us from his hands !” 

^‘Amen !” said Donna Isabella, who overheard his 
remark. “ Be calm, my child. You are among friends. 
I am Donna Isabella.” 

“ I remember you now, my lady,” said Fiorina, with a 
grateful smile. You are the aunt of Signor Marco.” 

“Ah, you know me? Yet I never saw you until 
now.” 

“ The great, my lady, take little note of the lowly, 
unless forced by accident,” replied Fiorina, with the 
gentle pride of humility. “ I have often seen you look- 
ing from the pavilion of your gondola as it floated by 
me while I sold flowers. Let me rise, my lady. I am 
well and strong now.” 

“ Drink this wine, my child,” said Donna Isabella, 
who, though a severe and ambitious woman, had a kind 
and womanly heart. “ You need refreshment.” 

“ And rest, my lady,” put in the physician. “ Are you 
not very weak, young lady ?” 

“ Tell me, I pray you, has any harm befallen Count 
Robert, have you heard ?” 

“ Speak no more, 5’oung lady,” interrupted the physi- 
cian. “You are too weak — your pulse can scarcely be 
felt.” 

“ But Count Robert — ” 

“ Is, doubtless, safe, my child. Sleep, and, when you 
awake, we will speak more at length.” 

“ And the noble stranger, the Ambassador — ” 

“ Is unhurt, and his guards, as well as those of Signor 


io8 


The Executioner of Venice, 


Marco, protect this palace. Now sleep, for we will 
answer no more questions.” 

The physician spoke somewhat sternly, for he saw 
that his patient needed rest. 

Fiorina, though she was eager to ask many questions 
which flashed through her mind, said no more, and was 
soon in a gentle though profound slumher. 

“ She will awake much refreshed, my lady,” said the 
physician. Yet I will remain within the palace. 
Indeed, I am too old to venture into the streets to-day.” 

‘‘ I would we could hear from the palace of the Doge,” 
remarked Donna Isabella, whose anxiety had returned. 

Gaspola di Parmetta, who shortened the life of his 
wife, my dear sister, by his cruel treatment and shame- 
less infidelity, will not interpose to save the life of his 
only son, should Marco fall into the power of the vindic- 
tive Senate.” 

“ From all that I have been able to learn,” replied 
the physician, “ the Senate itself is dangerously 
divided, many of those who are seeking to overthrow 
it being themselves Senators.” 

“ That is very true, sir. Yet in whom can we trust 
now ? All Venice is corrupt.” 

A servitor now entered, and as he was one whom 
Donna Isabella had sent forth to gather information of 
the events of the day, she instantly addressed him. 

“ What tidings, Alleppo ?” 

“ All is still uncertain and in confusion, my lady,” 
replied the servitor, “A portion of the Senate have 
elected Gaspola di Parmetta dictator.” 

Dictator ?” 

Yes, my lady, as well as Doge of Venice. His will 
is now supreme and absolute.” 

“ But what is the will without the power ? Has he 
the power to enforce his will, Alleppo ?” 


109 


The Revolt of the People, 


“ He is not weak, my lady. The Admiral Chaoza, 
his nephew, has arrived with a fleet no less powerful 
than that of Admiral Robert, and his war-barges are 
entering the grand canal, flying the standard of the 
Senate. People and patricians are taking sides — some 
with Signor Marco, who is elected Doge of Venice, by 
his 'confederates in the Senate ; others with Signor 
Gaspola. Bloody times are before us, I fear. Already 
much blood has been shed.” 

“ By whom, Alleppo ?” 

“ By the archers and swordsmen of Admiral Robert, 
who is trying to take possession of the prisons to liber- 
ate man ynow powerless, but great names in Venice ; and 
who, iffreed, will carry many of the people with them 
against the Senate. Admiral Robert’s object is to free 
the captives before the arrival of the war-barges of 
Admiral Chaoza. Listen, my lady.” 

As Alleppo concluded, shouts were heard in the 
streets and on the canals. 

Donna Isabella hurried to a balcony which over- 
looked the Canal St. Martin. She gazed down and saw 
a confused multitude of people upon the pavements 
and in gondolas, shouting and brandishing weapons of 
all kinds ; while prominent in a large boat, crowded 
with ruffians and bravoes, stood Salbano, the Execu- 
tioner, crowned with a horned bonnet, like that worn 
by the Doges of Venice. 

“ What is it that they shout?” asked Donna Isabella 
of the physician at her side. 

“ God help Venice !” he exclaimed. “ This is another 
revolution. You hear them now, my lady ?” he added, 
as the ruffians about Salbano shouted hoarsely : 

“ Hail to our new Doge ! The Doge of the people ! 
Hail to his Highness Duke Salbano— Doge of Venice !” 


I lO 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ This is some mockery," said Donna Isabella, 
haughtily. 

“ It is reality," my lady. “ The thousands of the idle 
and desperate of Venice have seized the opportunity 
furnished by the confusion and strife among the patri- 
cians. Mockery ! Look, my lady, up the Canal St. 
Martin." 

Donna Isabella’s glance followed the gesture of the 
physician and saw that which menaced the patrician 
rule and existence with destruction. 

Wild and angry faces, rude and armed men, clad in 
every costume which distinguished the various trades 
and callings of the populace of Venice, thousands upon 
thousands in number, filled the. pavements, the quays 
and the gondolas of the canal. 

In the immediate vicinity of the Executioner, on 
either side of the Canal St. Martin, and thronging the 
boats, barges and gondolas near him, she recognized 
the plumes and uniforms of the hireling troops of Ven- 
ice. Their burnished arms and disciplined air con- 
trasted broadly with the rush and roar of the populace, 
yet their foreign voices joined in the war cry of the 
multitude : 

Salbano is Doge of Venice ! Down with the patri- 
cians. Their heads to the basket, their riches to us, 
their ladies for all !" 

“ So the mercenaries have revolted and joined the 
people ! This is indeed terrible," said Donna Isabella. 

“Withdraw from the balcony, my lady,” urged the 
old physician, as he respectfully touched her arm. 
“ Seeing you may give them a desire to begin their 
intended work by attacking this palace." 

He spoke too late. The fierce eyes of the exalted 
headsman had already recognized the face and form of 
the high-born patrician lady. 


Ill 


The Revolt of the People. 


Intoxicated by his sudden and unexpected greatness, 
Salbano believed, himself absolute master of all Venice. 
The sight of Donna Isabella recalled to his mind the 
fact that Fiorina had been carried to the Valludi 
palace. 

“ Let us begin here, my friends,” he shouted, raising 
his bandaged arms and pointing at the palace. “ Behold 
the lordliest palace of our tyrants. Gold and riches to 
the people !” 

Shouts of approval replied to these words, and as the 
populace rushed up the broad stairs of the palace, Sal- 
bano said to Sizera : 

“ Up, woman ! In with the first and secure Fiorina. 
Follow her, Balthazar.” 

The armed retainers of Donna Isabella and the guard 
stationed by Signor Marco, perceiving this unexpected 
and formidable attack surging up the great piazza cf 
the palace like a irresistible wave, made no show of 
resistance, but betook themselves to flight. 

Signor Marco had placed them on guard to repulse a 
score or so, but not to confront thousands. 

Not so, however, with the body-guardsmen o^the 
French ambassador. Few in number but veterans in 
war, these bearded warriors, at the command of their 
officers, threw themselves into line at the head of the 
stairs and presented so dangerous an obstacle that the 
undisciplined mob recoiled in alarm, and in their haste 
to retreat tumbled and rolled over each other. 

“ Cowards !” roared Salbano. “ Do you retreat from 
a few Franks ? Have we no soldiers to shame these 
knaves ?” 

The revolted mercenaries now rushed from the gon- 
dolas, thrusting the people aside and forming for a 
charge at the base of the staircase. 

‘‘ We cannot withstand these,” said the chief officer 


112 


71 Le Executioner of Venice. 


of the Franks, as he observed the skillful manner in 
which the leader of the mercenaries arranged his forces. 
“ An old soldier is there below. The palace cannot be 
held for five minutes.” 

What do you say ?” exclaimed Donna Isabella, who 
had descended from the balcony and reached the piazza 
in time to hear these words. “ True, we are lost.” 

“ Fly, lady, fly !” urged the Frank. “ If you know of 
any escape by the rear of the palace use it, and take 
with you the maiden confided to your care.” 

“ And you, sir ?” 

“ Will die in attempting to obey the commands of our 
lord, the Ambassador.” 

“ My lady,” cried a female servant, running to her 
mistress, “ the palace is completely surrounded.” 

“ Then all escape is impossible,” said the Frank, tying 
a white handkerchief upon the point of his sword, and 
waving it. 

“ Do you surrender ?” asked Donna Isabella. 

“ No, my lady. I wish to gain time. Could we con- 
vey information to our lord, the Ambassador, we might 
be saved.” 

Salbano saw the flag of truce as it fluttered from the 
sword of the Frank, and called out : 

“ See what he desires. If he will join us with his 
Franks we will receive him as our own, but if he refuses, 
slay him and all who will not unite with us.” 

‘‘He asks free egress and unmolested march to the 
quarters of the French Ambassador, taking all the 
females in the palace with him,” was soon reported to 
the Executioner. 

“ At them ! Cut them down ! No quarter to foreign- 
ers who will not join us !” roared Salbano. 

“No quarter to all enemies !” cried the populace, and 
the mercenaries charged up the stairs of the piazza. 


The Revolt of the People. 1 1 3 


The resistance of the Franks was beaten down in a 
few moments by the overwhelming force of the Lom- 
bard mercenaries, and the palace was swarmed with the 
lowest and most vile of the Venetian populace. 

Donna Isabella was seized and placed in a large gon- 
dola to await the will of the Executioner, whose word 
was now law. 

Sizera and Balthazar ran from room to room seeking 
Fiorina. 

Their search was slow and laborious. The rooms of 
the palace were many in number, and were filled with 
marauders engaged in plundering the rich walls and 
furniture. 

Fiorina had been awakened from her short slumber 
by the furious and triumphant yells of the people as 
they stormed the palace. She sprang from her couch 
to find herself alone in the apartment. 

“ Great heaven !” she exclaimed, running to the 
balcony. “ What does this mean ?” 

Her rapid and terrified glances showed her the peril 
which surrounded her. She recognized the form and 
face of Salbano as he stood shouting orders to the 
people. 

“ It is I whom he seeks,” thought Fiorina, as the 
Executioner raised his eyes to the balcony, and pointed 
her out to his followers. ‘‘ Heaven aid me to escape !” 

She rushed back into the room to escape, but at that 
instant the doors of the apartment were forced open 
and a torrent of living villainy poured in. 

Her room was crowded instantly with armed and 
shouting plunderers. No one heeded the trembling 
maiden. All were intent upon plunder, and Fiorina 
struggled through the crowd until she found herself in 
the hall. 

The hall, however, was as crowded as the apartment, 


The Executioner of Venice. 


1 14 


yet Fiorina, thinking only of escape from the palace, 
forced her way to the head of a staircase, up and down 
which scores were struggling. 

Clinging to the balustrade for a moment, she glanced 
downward, A scream of terror eacaped from her lips 
as she recognized the hideous face of Sizera amidst 
those who were striving to ascend. 

The fierce hag recognized the maiden at the same 
moment, and howled out as she shook her wide-spread 
hands : 

“ You are mine ! Ha ! you shall pay for this freak !” 

“ You shall be my wife !” cried Balthazar, whose 
great bulk and enormous strength was fast forcing a 
way upward. 

Amid the many horrible visages which glared upward, 
there were none so horrible as the faces of Sizera and Bal- 
thazar. At any time their monstrous ugliness was apt 
to incite fear, but as the persecuted Fiorina recognized 
them and their purpose ; she felt her heart stand still and 
her strength leave her limbs. 

Some one grasped her arm as she clung to the balus- 
trade, petrified with fear. She screamed, for she 
thought she was already seized by some ally of the 
Executioner. 

She turned and saw a pale-faced lady, whom she 
immediately recognized as the stranger whose veil had 
been so rudely torn off by the French Ambassador. 

“ Come with me. I will save you,” said this lady, 
eagerly. 

“ Heaven will bless you if you will !” replied Fiorina, 
not remembering the warning of the Ambassador, who, 
had said to her : 

“ Beware of her, if you value your life.” 

“ Come,” urged the stranger, pulling sharply at 
Fiorina’s arm. 


The Revolt of the People. 


1*5 


Clinging to the terrified girl, this woman forced her 
way through the roaring mob with singular dexterity, 
moving away from the head of the staircase and 
escaping from the sight of Sizera. 

“ Haste, Balthazar !” screeched the hag, as she saw 
her intended victim vanish from her view. “ We may 
lose her yet.” 

Balthazar buffeted those about him, right and left, as 
he no longer saw Fiorina. Sizera wielded her bony 
hands, striking and scratching on every side. 

“ She devil I” cried a burly fellow, irritated at her 
rough movements. “ Hell-cat, don’t scratch me, or if 
you do look somewhat like a woman, I will twist your 
ugly neck.” 

“Will you?” retorted the red-headed giantess, deal- 
ing him a severe blow in the mouth and then another 
in the eyes. “ I am as good as two of you any day. 
Clear the way, you hounds ! I am the wife of Salbano, 
the Doge of the people !” 

“ Rather wife and mother of the devil,” growled he 
who had had more than enough of her prowess. 

“ Push on, Balthazar, push on, or the minx will escape!” 
urged Sizera, whose declaration of her new dignity was 
not heeded by the selfish mob. “ Push on !” 

Fiorina and her mysterious guide continued to advance, 
rapidly increasing their distance from Sizera and Bal- 
thazar, when, at the head of another stairway, they 
encountered Rapal face to face. 

“ Oh, my God ! I am lost !” cried Fiorina, as the old 
man grasped her other arm, saying : 

“ Hi ! It is my Queen of Roses ! What fortune !” 

“ Away, old villain !” exclaimed the stranger. “ This 
is my child !” 

“ Haste, Balthazar !” screamed old Rapal, who now 


1 1 6 The Executioner of V mice. 


caught sight of the ugly face of his grandson, towering 
far above the heads of those who filled the hall. 

“ Then take this !” said the stranger, drawing a dag- 
ger from her girdle and plunging it into Rapal’s throat. 

The old man freed Fiorina from his grasp and clapped 
his hands to the wound, shrieking with pain and terror. 

The stranger hurried down the staircase with Fiorina, 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE DAGGER OF DONNA CLARA. 

More were descending than ascending this stairway, 
and Fiorina soon found herself in the hall below, yet 
still pressed and crowded by the excited mob. 

Glancing back she saw that Balthazar had reached the 
head of the stairs. She saw no more of him then, for 
her companion dragged her into a narrow corridor, 
dark and almost deserted. 

“Come,” said the stranger, “ we can escape by this 
passage to an archway which opens upon a canal at the 
rear of the palace.” 

Fiorina hurried on. They encountered a few persons 
but met with no opposition in their flight, for all were 
blindly intent upon booty and pillage. 

They found the canal crowded with gondolas, yet not 
so impassably as that of St. Martin. 

The stranger glanced quickly about her until she saw 
a small gondola with a blue and white flag at the prow. 

“ Ah, it is near us,” she said, as she forced her way to 
the edge of the quay and waved her hand to the gondo- 
lier of this craft. 


The Dagger of Do 7 ina Clara, 1 1 7 


In a moment the boat glided to the quay and the 
stranger with Fiorina sprang into its pavilion. 

“To the palace of Gaspola di Parmetta,” said the 
stranger to the gondolier. 

“ I hear that it is in the hands of the people, my lady," 
replied the gondolier. “At least, Salbano has ordered 
a large force to take it and hold it.” 

“ Then to the palace of the Doge," commanded the 
stranger, as she drew the silken curtains of the pavilion 
close. 

Fiorina, still trembling les tsome mischance might cast 
her into the power of Sizera, fixed her beautiful eyes 
upon the face of this person who had so suddenly 
become her protector. 

The stranger was apparently fifty years of age, with 
a pale and careworn face, whose predominant expres- 
sion was unpleasant to the observer. It was a face 
which no doubt had once possessed some beauty, for 
the features were regular and clearly cut, yet it partook 
much more of a masculine than of a feminine character. 

The eyes were dark and sinister, the mouth and chin 
firm and hard. Her voice, too, was shrill and unpleas- 
antly discordant, and as Fiorina gazed at her the 
maiden thought she had never seen a more disagreeable 
face, without its being positively ugly. 

As Fiorina studied this countenance, she remembered 
that she had seen it several times before, at long 
intervals. 

“ It is the same woman who bought flowers of me 
last year," thought the maiden. “ And when she pur- 
chased them I remember that I recognized her as the 
lady who spoke to me the year before. “ Yes," she 
continued in her mind, “ I have seen this lady once a 
year for several years. Once she met me near the 
house of Salbano and gave me a ring, the only bauble I 


The ExeciLtioner of Venice. 


ii8 


possess. T hid it from Sizera, and it is in my girdle 
now.” 

Involuntarily Fiorina took from a secret receptacle in 
her girdle a golden ring. 

“ Ah, you recognize me ?” said the stranger, as she saw 
the ring. 

“ I recognize you as the lady who gave me this ring,’’ 
replied Fiorina. “ I have seen you several times before 
to-day, though rarely. By what name may I address 
my preserver ?” 

“ Then you are willing to recognize* me as your pre- 
server ?” 

“ Certainly, lady, but for your aid I would now be in 
the cruel'hands of Sizera.” 

“ You may call me Donna Clara,” .said the stranger 
passing her arm around Fiorina’s waist and imprinting 
a kiss upon her lips. 

There was some instinctive dread in Fiorina’s heart 
which made her shrink from the warm embrace of 
Donna Clara, and as. she then remembered the hur- 
ried warning of the Ambassador, she sprang aside, 
quivering with sudden fear. 

“Why shrink from me, Fiorina ?” said Donna Clara, 
reproachfully. “ Ah, you little know that I am your 
mother.” 

“ My mother !” exclaimed Fiorina in amazement. 
“ They told me that my mother, after casting me into 
the canal, fled from Venice, and died miserably not far 
from the city.” 

“ They spoke falsely,” said Donna Clara. “ Your 
mother did not cast you into the canal, nor did she die 
miserably. I am your mother. Some fifteen or sixteen 
years ago misfortune forced me to place you in the 
care of Rapal Vecci, and circumstances have forced me 
to leave you with him until now, my dear child.” 


The Dagger of Donna Clara. 


19 


The voice of Donna Clara was as soft and moving as 
she could make it, yet it had no effect upon the heart 
of Fiorina, True it was that the helpless orphan girl 
had often longed for a mother’s bosom upon which to 
rest her aching head, biit not such a one as Donna Clara. 

Some deep and powerful impulse bade her beware of 
this stranger even before she remembered the caution 
of the Ambassador. 

“ She is not my mother. She is my enemy !” thought 
the poor girl, as she shrank from the caresses of Donna 
Clara. 

“ Ah, you will learn to love me, Fiorina,” said Donna 
Clara, again embracing her. “ It is not strange that 
you do not love me now. All your love is given to the 
Admiral.” 

At these words Fiorina blushed deeply and raised her 
eyes to those of Donna Clara. 

There was an expression in the dark and cunning 
eyes of Donna Clara which alarmed Fiorina. There 
was triumph, passion, cruelty and hate. Fiorina saw 
it all at a glance, and let fall her eyes, almost closing 
them with inexplicable terror. 

“You must be patient, my child. You shall become 
the Admiral’s wife, if he will marry you. Do you think 
he wooed you to make you his wife ?” 

“ Admiral Robert — my Robert ” — replied Fiorina, 
emphaticall}’ — “ is a noble and honorable man. He has 
told me that he loved me, and I know he did not speak 
falsely. He has asked me to become his wife, and I 
know thathe is too noble to stoop to deceive me or any- 
one else.” 

“ Yes ? Then you are wise in loving him.” 

“ Whither are we going?” exclaimed Fiorina, as anx- 
ious to escape from the presence of Donna Clara as she 
had been glad to accept her protection. 


120 


The Exectitioner of Ve^iice. 


“Trust to me, my child. Unless you submit to my 
guidance, you will assuredly fall into the power of Sal- 
bano.” 

“ Great heaven ! save me from Salbano and his 
family !” 

“ Or perhaps you may again fall into the power of the 
Ambassador.” 

“ Fall into his power ?” exclaimed Fiorina, repeating 
the words of Donna Clara. “ Fall into his power ? 
Would that I could, for Admiral Robert confided me to 
his care, and he saved me from Sizera and Salbano, at 
the risk of his life.” 

“Yet he is your enemy, poor child,” said Donna 
Clara, as her white and delicate fingers played with the 
tresses of Fiorina. 

“ He is my enemy ?” 

“ Yes, as much your enemy as Salbano or Sizera, or 
any of that family of wolves.” 

“ It cannot be. I never saw the Ambassador before 
to-day. Why should he be my enemy ?” 

“ He is so much your enemy that he would rather 
lose his right arm than have you wed Admiral Robert.” 

“ Heaven save me from all this peril !” said Fiorina. 
“ What am I to the French Ambassador that he should 
oppose my marriage with Admiral Robert ?” 

“ Foolish child ! how little you know of the hearts of 
men,” exclaimed Donna Clara, laughing forcedly. 
“ What are you to the French Ambassador ? — much 
more than you think. First, he loves you madly.” 

“ Ah, no. That cannot be. He is old enough to be 
my father.” 

“What of that? Age only makes his love all the 
more intense, my child. Secondly, he hates Admiral 
Robert.” 

“ Hates the Admiral ? No, that is not so, lady, for — — ” 


The Dagger of Donna Clara, 


I2I 


Listen : When you landed from the barge of Signor 
Marco, the Admiral was nearly within reach. He was 
returning to reclaim you from the protection to which 
he had consigned you a short time before. If the 
Ambassador had not wished to keep you in his power, 
he would have waited a moment. But, instead of wait- 
ing, he hurried on. Come, you have not a bad memory 
— since you have remembered me, — what were the 
words of Signor Marco to the Ambassador just before 
you disembarked at the quay ?” 

Fiorina re'flected a moment, and then replied : 

I think Signor Marco said : ‘ Is it your wish to 
restore Donna Fiorina to the care of the Admiral ?” 

Your memory is indeed excellent,” said Donna Clara. 
“ Those were his- exact words. I was upon the quay 
and heard them. Now, since you remember the ques- 
tion of Signor Marco, perhaps you have not forgotten the 
reply of the Ambassador ?’ ’ 

His answer was, ‘ No ; let us hasten to the palace of 
Donna Isabella,’ ” replied Fiorina. 

Surely, my poor child, you must now be convinced 
that the Ambassador is but a treacherous friend, a 
secret enemy. I heard his order to his guards as he 
left them, at the palace of Donna Isabella. They were 
commanded not to suffer you to leave the palace. 
Again, I heard him declare to Donna Isabella that you 
were a prisoner of France.” 

“ A prisoner of France ? what did he mean by that ?” 

“That he claims you as a subject of France, and 
therefore beyond the reach of the laws of Venice. Do 
you not see ? He is infatuated, and desired to hold you 
as his own, that you might not again fall into the power 
of Admiral Robert, whom he detests.” 

“ My lady,” said the gondolier, appearing at the pavil- 
ion, “ there are gondolas far astern, whose occupants 


122 


The Executioner of Venice. 


tear aside the pavilion curtains of each gondola as they 
pass by. Evidently they are looking for some one." 

“ No doubt they are assassins commissioned by Sal- 
bano to slay every patrician they meet." 

“ There are others doing the same ahead," continued 
the gondolier. 

‘‘ Push on, Ernetti," replied Donna Clara, giving 
Fiorina a mask, while she adjusted one to her face. ‘‘ It 
is fortunate, perhaps, that the custom of Venice allows 
everyone to wear masks if they desire." 

“ Of what use will masks be to us against the daggers 
of assassins ?" 

“ My child, they are not stabbing women," replied 
Donna Clara. “ It is the noblemen whom they seek. I 
pity any unfortunate patrician who is floating along 
these canals at this hour. Put on your mask. They 
will look into our pavilion, and perceiving that we are 
two harmless women, allow us to proceed in peace.” 

“ What a day in Venice !" thought Fiorina, as she 
put on the mask with trembling hands. 

Having done this she ventured to draw aside the 
curtains and look forth. 

The canal upon which they floated was one of un- 
usual width, and though by no means so crowded with 
boats as the canal St. Martin, carried many a gondola 
upon its bosom. 

Among these was one whose gaudy decorations and 
rich ornamenting declared it to be that of some 
wealthy patrician. 

Its curtains were closely drawn, as if its occupant 
desired to avoid recognition, and thd liveried gondolier 
plied his oar with a strength and skill which hurried it 
through the water at amazing speed. 

“ Push on, Ernetti !” cried Donna Clara. “ Keep as 
near that gondola as you can, so long as it holds on our 


The Dagger of Don^ia Clara. 


123 


course. Doubtless there is some lordly patrician in the 
pavilion, eager to escape from recognition by the mob.” 

“ I trust it is not so,” said Fiorina, anxiously. 

“ And why ? What care you for the patricians of 
Venice 

“ I would not wish even my enemies to be assassin- 
ated,” replied Fiorina, shuddering. 

“ And I would rejoice to see them die,” cried Donna 
Clara, sharply. “ I have no particular reason to hate or 
love any Venetian, but it is the pleasure of the 
spectacle which attracts me.” 

“ The pleasure of beholding a deed of blood ?” 
exclaimed Fiorina, aghast that a w^oman should or 
could declare such a sentiment. 

“ Yes,” replied Donna Clara. “ See, a boat filled 
with bravoes has captured the gondola.” 

Fiorina, shuddering, averted her eyes, but Donna 
Clara watched the scene eagerly. 

“ There ! the bravoes have torn aside the curtains of 
the pavilion. They seize the occupant. Ah, he resists 
desperately !” 

Unable to resist the terrible attraction, Fiorina looked 
towards the gondola of the patrician. 

Four or five ruffians had sprung from their boat into 
the gondola, where they found no easy prey. The 
patrician, well armed and resolute, and aware that his 
death was the object of his assailants, stabbed at the 
throats of his enemies with fatal skill and rapidity. 

As those who attacked him were armed only with 
knives, his long sword for a time held them at bay. 
But in the struggle the gondola was overturned, pre- 
cipitating bravoes and patrician into the water. 

The ruffians upon the quays and pavements showered 
stones at the head of the unfortunate patrician, careless 
whether their missiles struck him or the bravoes. 


The ExectUioner of Venice. 


1 24 


Perceiving that death awaited him on land, the noble 
struck out lustily for the nearest gondola, which hap- 
pened to be that of Donna Clara. 

“ Save him ! ’’ cried Fiorina to the gondolier. 

“ No !” commanded the shrill voice of Donna Clara. 
“ If we attempt that the mob will assassinate us.” 

The gondolier, however, had already swept his long 
oar through the water, and as Donna Clara spoke, it 
glided within the reach of the nobleman. 

He grasped the side of the gondola, immediately 
below where Donna Clara sat, leaning from the pavil- 
ion. The patrician was pale and bleeding profusely 
from several severe wounds in the face ; yet Donna 
Clara was merciless. She tore off her mask and cried 
out : 

“Ah, is it you. Signor Ludovico? Do you know 
me r 

The noble gazed wildly into the sneering face which 
seemed full of triumph in his peril, but before he could 
speak she thrust out her hand and with the same dag- 
ger which had smitten Rapal, stabbed him in the neck. 

With a groan of despair, the unhappy noble let go his 
hold and sank beneath the water. 

A wild burst of applause from the insurgents hailed 
this merciless deed of a woman’s hand, while the swim- 
ming bravoes dove for the corpse, and easily finding it, 
dragged it to the nearest quay. 

There the head of the patrician was cut off and 
raised on the point of a long spear, while he who raised 
it aloft shouted : 

“ Behold the standard of the new Republic ! Long 
live our new Doge, Salbano the Executioner !” 

“ Down with the patricians !” roared the mob, toss- 
ing caps and arms in the air. “ Long live Salbano, the 
Doge of the People !” 


The Dagger of Donna Clara. 


125 


“Move on, Ernetti,” commanded Donna Clara, as 
she calmly resumed her mask. 

“This dreadful woman cannot be my mother,” 
thought Fiorina, as her heart beat fast with terror. 

“ I have aided in slaying an enemy who sought to 
slay me, my child,” said Donna Clara, in a mild tone 
— so mild that Fiorina was amazed to hear it from 
the lips of one whose hand was so quick to use the 
dagger. Twice, within less than an hour, Fiorina had 
seen that fair and delicate hand smite with that 
slender stiletto, and each time a man had fallen. 

“ Had he been a friend and not an enemy,” continued 
Donna Clara, “ we could not have saved him. Our own 
lives would have been instantly taken by the insur- 
gents.” 

“ My lady,” said the gondolier, again appearing at 
the little lattice through which he communicated with 
those in the pavilion, “ it will be hazardous to approach 
any nearer to the great square. It seems that a battle 
of some kind is going on.” 

“ Then hasten to the house of Sebastian Peon,” 
replied Donna Clara. 

“ Sebastian Peon ! The Assassin !” exclaimed Fior- 
ina, while the gondolier sprang to obey his mistress. 

“Yes, my child. Why should you, who have been 
reared as the daughter of the Executioner, fear to visit 
the house of the Assassin of Venice ?” 

There was undoubtedly a sneering accent in the tones 
of Donna Clara, though Fiorina could not see her 
features ; and this sneer aroused the pride of the 
maiden, who replied : 

“ It is true that God saw fit to place my helpless 
infancy and unprotected youth in the power of the 
Executioner of Venice ; yet even Salbano never slays 
except before the people, and by the proclaimed com- 


126 


The Executio7ier of Venice. 


mand of the Senate. Sebastian strikes dead with his 
dagger those whom the Senate fears to arraign, lest the 
accused be proved innocent. I pray you, lady, do not 
place me in the house of the assassin.” 

“ He is my firm friend, my child, and of course will 
be yours also. There we may be hidden from Salbano 
until the city is restored to quiet After that we will 
escape.” 

“ Great heaven !” thought Fiorina, “ I fear Donna 
Clara means to betray me to serve some wicked plot of 
her own !” 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE UNKNOWN PRISONER. 

Meanwhile Admiral Robert, at the head of his barges, 
had swept on towards the ducal palace. 

The Senate, aroused to all its energies by the sudden 
alarm, had convened in haste to crush the armed con- 
spiracy. Officials had been dispatched at an early hour 
in the da}^ warning all patricians of Venice that a 
dangerous plot had been discovered, and summoning 
all to the great council to be held at the ducal palace. 

Those who were already aware of the existence of the 
conspiracy, from being secret participants therein, as 
well as those who belonged to the faction of di Parmetta, 
alarmed by the aspect of affairs, had hurried to the 
palace well armed and ready to attack or defend. 

The conspirators were well informed of their own 
strength, and expected either that the fickle populace 
would take sides with them or remain passive under a 
change of masters. The party in power were no less 


The U^iknown Prisoner, 


27 


confident in their strength, especially as they had been 
informed that the powerful fleet of Admiral Chaoza was 
in the offing, and upon the formidable aid of that 
ambitious commander, they relied strongly 

They expected, also, that many of the heads of the 
conspiracy would be arrested immediately, as the 
Council of Three had issued orders to that effect 

In this they erred, for the sagacious leader of the 
conspiracy. Signor Marco, had already secretly won 
over to his faction over two-thirds of the subordinate 
officials of the State, so that when an arrest was 
attempted, the accused had escaped by the connivance 
of these treacherous subordinates. 

On convening, the disordered Senate became a scene 
of confusion, in the midst of which it was announced 
that the late Doge was dead. 

Attempts were made to hold an election, which were 
crushed by the efforts of the partisans of Signor Marco ; 
and while this struggle was at its height, Signor Marco 
entered at one door while his father, di Parmetta, 
entered by another. 

Signor Marco bore in plain view the baton ; and as 
his partisans saw it, each produced the same emblem of 
revolution. 

The sight of hundreds of these batons in the hands of 
fellow-nobles, disclosed to the other party the great 
strength of the conspiracy. 

While the now turbulent assemblage was in total con- 
fusion, a herald-at-arms sounded his trumpet, and in the 
name of the Senate proclaimed Gaspola di Parmetta 
Doge and Dictator of Venice. 

He had scarcely ceased when another herald sounded 
his trumpet, and in the name of the Senate proclaimed 
Marco del Vida Doge and Dictator of Venice. 


128 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Thus each faction clamored for its own prince, and 
swords began to gleam in the senatorial chambers. 

Tidings were then spread that Admiral Robert was 
storming the Bridge of Sighs to force a way into the 
prison. 

Both factions now began to leave the council cham- 
bers, to find use for their weapons where there was more 
room to use them. 

Admiral Robert had stormed the entrance of the 
great prison, leading his sea veterans in person, and, 
despite the fierce resistance of the strong prison guard, 
had effected an entrance. 

“ Lead me to Cell 98,” said the Admiral to the chief 
jailer of the prison. 

“ Cell 98 ?” asked the jailer. “ It is empty, good sir.” 

“ Empty ? Was it empty yesterday, or the day before, 
or last week, aye, or last night ?” said the Admiral, 
sternly. “ Do not lie to me, jailer, or, by my life, you 
shall be torn in pieces.” 

“ There was an occupant last night,” replied the 
jailer, shrinking from the fierce eyes of the commander. 
“ He is dead.” 

“ Dead ? Great God, have I labored and searched for 
years to be told that he whom I sought to free is dead ?” 
cried Admiral Robert, pale with grief. “ Man,” he 
exclaimed, as he grasped the arm of the jailer, “ he who 
occupied Cell 98 last night was my father !” 

Your father, my lord ? I do not so much as know 
the name of him who died last night in Cell 98.” 

“ No ; for these accursed tyrants of Venice bury men 
alive for years, concealing the names of their victims 
under bare numbers, until in time the victims them- 
selves forget their own names. Show me the body of 
him who died last night in Cell 98 ; but first lead me to 


The U'nknozv7i Prisoner. 


129 


that cell,” said the Admiral. Then turning- to those 
around him, he called out : 

“ Open every cell. Free all, that all may lend their 
aid to strike down the tyrants of Venice. Lead on, 
jailer, to Cell 98. In what part of your vile domain is 
it ?” 

“Above. Beneath the leads.” 

“ Oh, devils of cruelty ! They shall answer for this 
to me,” exclaimed the Admiral. “ Was not imprison- 
ment for life enough, without adding torture !” 

The prisons of Venice had in general two kinds of 
dungeons. One set was beneath the earth, cold, damp 
and horrible. In these were thrust the victims of the 
Senate during the winter season, that frost and cold 
should torment them. The other set was near the roof, 
which was covered with thin sheets of lead, and in these 
heated, stifling cells the Senate imprisoned their vic- 
tims during the hot summer months, that all the tor- 
tures of a parching, heated air might increase the 
horrors of the dungeons. 

The jailor conducted the Admiral through many a 
dark and gloomy coi-ridor, and up many a narrow stair- 
way, until, halting before a small iron door, he unlocked 
and opened it. 

A puff of heated, foul-smelling air rushed out, forcing 
the Admiral — whose lungs were used to the fresh, salty 
breezes of the sea — to gasp for breath. 

“ They imprisoned him in this den ?” he asked, as he 
gazed into the cell, which was dimly lighted by mere 
slits for windows. “Oh, my poor father! It is true 
that I have never seen you, yet my heart is breaking 
with grief for your loss. How I have prayed to heaven 
for the hour to come when I might lead you from your 
prison to life, light and liberty ! Dead ! Too late ! 
But lead me now to his corpse,” 


130 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ My lord, that is impossible.” 

“Impossible? Jailer, if it is on earth I will see it ; 
aye, if already buried, I will gaze into the face of my 
father, that my memory may worship his image.” 

“ My lord, the law of the Senate decrees that all who 
die in the prisons shall be removed from sight secretly, 
and cast into the waters of the Canal Orfano.” 

“ And the body of my father has been thus disposed 
of ? Do not dare to lie to me, jailer.” 

The jailor evidently hesitated. He held his import- 
ant and lucrative post under the Senate of Venice ; he 
was an official of the State, and he feared for his head 
should he reveal the secrets of the prison. 

When the late occupant of Cell 98 was placed under 
his charge, he was told to guard him as he valued his 
head ; to see that no eye should look upon him except 
his own. A dread secrecy was ever to be observed in 
his intercourse with him. He was not to ask nor to 
answer any question of this mysterious prisoner. 

For years the care of No. 98 had been a nightmare to 
the peace of the jailer. 

But the haughty and excited face of the great 
Admiral awed the jailer, and he replied, trembling : 

“ Let me see Petro. This body may not have been 
moved. They told me he was dead. I — ” 

“ Ah, rascal !” cried the Admiral, grasping the beard 
of the jailer, “ you have lied !” 

“ Mercy, my lord ! The Senate — the law — ” 

“ What care I for the Senate or for the law ? Give 
me the body of my father.” 

“ Mercy, and I will show you him alive !” roared the 
jailer, as the Admiral twisted his beard with a hand of 
iron. 

“ Alive ! Then he lives, dog ! But prove this to me 
and I will spare your life 


llie Unk7iown Prisoner. 


131 


Free my beard from your hand, my lord, and I will 
hasten to lead you to him. Your lordship hurts me 
somewhat,” cried the jailer. 

“ Hurts you somewhat !” repeated the Admiral, 
scornfully, as he added more force to his powerful grip, 
thus bearing the brutish face of the howling jailer 
nearly to the floor. “ You have dared to lie to me — to 
make sport with my heart, you scoundrel ! Remember 
the tortures which for years you have delighted to 
inflict upon the noblest for Venice ! Were you hanged 
up by the beard for ten years, rascal ! you would be 
mildly punished for all your villainy. Show to me my 
father.” 

The jailer, being released from the grasp of the 
Admiral, replied : 

“ My lord, I will show to you the last occupant of 
Cell 98, and alive ; but whether he be your lordship’s 
father or not, I cannot say.” 

If he be not my father, jailer, I will sweep your 
head from your shoulders,” said the Admiral, in a 
terrible voice. 

“ Follow me, my lord,” replied the terrified jailer. 

‘ God grant, for my sake, and for yours, too, my lord, 
that he may be your father.” 

With these words he threaded several corridors and 
galleries of cells until he paused before what appeared 
to be a solid column of masonry. 

With hasty hands, for the eyes of the young Admiral 
were menacing, he pushed vigorously against one of 
many similar knobs which seemed sunken in the 
masonry, and a large slab sank slowly down, disclosing 
a small recess, barely large enough to contain a chair, 
and the single person seated in it. 

This person was a man whose frame must once have 
been powerful as well as tall, though long and cruel 


132 


1 he Executio7iei' of Venice. 


confinement had bowed and emaciated his form. His 
hair was as white as snowy floss, descending in great 
masses almost to his waist. His beard also was long 
and white, touching his knees as he sat leaning for- 
ward in the iron chair to which he was bound. Man- 
acles, chains and shackles weighed him down ; and 
though his eyes were opened and moved, they were 
dull and withered within their deep sockets. 

A glance showed the Admiral that the prisoner was 
blind. 

Convulsive emotion heaved the broad breast of the 
great warrior of the sea as this sad sight met his eyes. 
For a moment he stood speechless, gazing tearfully at 
the wreck before him. 

At length he cried : 

“ Take off his chains ! Off with every iron instantly. 
Father ! father ! you are free !” 

“ Who calls me free ? and who calls me father ?” said 
the prisoner, in a voice so deep and awful that those 
who heard it trembled. “ For twenty-six years I have 
not heard the speech of man . What mockery is this ? 
What newly invented torture is to be used against me 
by the tyrants of Venice ?” 

“ HavSte, jailer, and strike off the last manacle. There 
— he is free ! Let me lead him from this accursed cell,” 
said the Admiral, as the last fetter clanged upon the 
stones, and grasping the skeleton-like hands of the 
prisoner. 

Tottering and stumbling, the feeble old man, ragged 
and weak, was led from the recess into the hall. 

‘‘ Father,” said the Admiral, kneeling and kissing the 
thin hands, “ you are free. I, your son, have set 5"ou 
free.” 

“ I hear the shouts of a great multitude,” said the aged 
prisoner, “ and I am standing near a window, for I feel 


The Ujiknoimi Prisoner. 


133 


the fresh air of heaven upon my face, and I breathe it 
with delight. God ! I thank thee that thou hast per- 
mitted me once more to inhale the pure air of the sea.” 

He was standing near an open window which gave, a 
view of the port, and the wind, fresh and strong from 
the Adriatic, soon played with his long, white hair 
and beard. 

“ Father, I am your son !” exclaimed the kneeling 
Admiral. 

“ Anselmo di Parmetta never had a son,” replied the 
old man, “ or that son would have long since freed his 
father.” 

“Anselmo di Parmetta?” cried the Admiral, in 
amazement, and the cry was repeated in tones of 
wonder by all within hearing of that deep and sonorous 
voice. “ Are you Anselmo di Parmetta ?” 

“ Aye, so my noble father called me.” 

“ The brother of Gaspola di Parmetta ?” 

“So heaven decreed,” replied the old man. “His 
brother, born of the same father and mother — Gaspola’s 
elder brother and his miserable victim. Does he yet 
live ?” 

“ Live? Yes, my father ; and for his share in these 
cruelties shall be punished.” 

“ Leave him to the vengeance of heaven,” said 
Anselmo, solemnly. “ Heaven is just. Heaven will 
blind him as he blinded me ; imprison him as he impris- 
oned me ; torture him as he tortured me ; if not on 
earth, in hell. But who is it that called me father ? 
My ears have so long been deprived. of the music of the 
voice of man — save as I have heard the groans of the 
tortured — that my head is filled with a roar as of a 
storm. Yet I think some one called me father.” 

“it, was 1,” cried the Admiral, pressing those with- 


134 


The Exectttioner of Venice. 


ered hands. “ The roaring is that of those who have 
risen against the tyrants of Venice — ” 

“ My Admiral,” hastily whispered Captain Andrea, 
“ pardon my interruption, but your presence is needed 
by our friends. The populace have risen in open 
rebellion against all patricians. Salbano, the Execu- 
tioner, is proclaimed by them the Doge of the People ; 
Admiral Chaoza and his barges have nearly reached the 
ducal palace. The palace of Donna Isabella is being 
sacked — ” 

^‘Ah ! and the maiden, Donna Fiorina?” exclaimed 
the startled Admiral. 

“ Doubtless is in the power of Salbano, if she has not 
escaped. The guards of the Ambassador were slain or 
beaten down, and those of Signor Marco fled or joined 
the insurgents.” 

“ And the Ambassador ?” 

“ Has disapppeared. He accompanied me only to 
the ducal palace, and in the confusion of the streets I 
lost him.” 

“ Go rally our forces. I will be with you presently. 
Lead them into the great square, and seize every 
stronghold,” replied the Admiral, rapidly designating 
several important positions. “ Away, good friend ! I 
will be with you presently.” 

Captain Andrea hurried away to see that those orders 
were obeyed ; and as he did so, three sailors rushed into 
the presence of the Admiral, shouting, as they dragged 
forward an old man : 

“ Declare his punishment, my lord. This is the knave 
whose cross-bolt struck your lordship.” 

Antonio — for it was he who had obeyed the order of 
di Parmetta — maintained a bold front, saying : 

“ Never did Antonio Delota refuse to obey his lawful 
lord.” 


The Unknown Prisonei', 


135 


“ Antonio Delota !’’ said the late prisoner, as his face 
lighted up with pleasure. “ Do I hear the voice of my 
faithful old servant and friend 

Antonio stared at the questioner, but made no repl}^ 
He could not recognize in that bowed form and that 
attenuated face his once stately, noble-featured master. 

“ Speak, Antonio Delota, if thou art the old servant 
and friend of Anselmo di Parmetta. Speak to your old 
master, for I am all that is left of him." 

“ Great God ! are you indeed my former lord ?" 
exclaimed Antonio, kneeling and pressing the noble’s 
hands to his lips. 

“Aye, his skeleton, Antonio — his blind skeleton," 
replied Signor Anselmo, as he pressed the hands of 
his old follower. 

“ Your brother said that you were dead, my lord. So 
he told me when I was set free from prison." 

“ Then you, too, were imprisoned V 

“ For two years, my lord, for no reason but that I 
loved you, and declared the sentence of the Senate 
unjust. Signor Gaspola at length obtained my liberty." 

“ Then you know not that Signor Gaspola caused my 
arrest, secretly conducted my trial — if that mockery 
may be called a trial — imprisoned me, had my eyes put 
out. Antonio, you need not tell Anselmo di Parmetta 
that you never so much as dreamed of these facts, for 
if you had suspected that the villainy of Gaspola — " 

“ By the Pope, my lord, I would have stabbed him 
to death as he slept !" cried Antonio, fiercely. 

“ Enough, Antonio. I believe you. But there is one 
here who claims to be my son, and yet, if I remember 
aright, he did not not know that my name is Anselmo 
di Parmetta." 

“ Who claims my lord as father ?" asked Antonio, in 
surprise. 


The Executioner of Venice. 


136 


‘‘I,” said the Admiral. “It is true that I did not 
know my father’s name to be Anselmo di Parmetta, 
yet I claim to be his son. But there is not time for 
explanation now. Hereafter ” 

“ Look in his face, Antonio,” said Signor Anselmo. 
“ There is a sound in his voice which reminds me of 
one who must have perished long since before the hate 
and ambition of Gaspola. Look at him well, Antonio.” 

The Admiral was bareheaded, and, after a sharp 
glance, old Antonio replied : 

“ My lord, he is Count Robert, Admiral of all the 
fleets of Venice, and his resemblance to your lordship 
at his age is most marvellous.” 

“Your mother’s name. Admiral?” 

“ Marie de Lorola.” 

On hearing this name the aged prisoner clasped his 
hands tightly together and exclaimed : 

“ Is it possible that she lives ? that she has escaped 
the hate of Gaspola ? Tell me, young man, does your 
mother live ?” 

“ She lives, father, and is well.” 

“ In Venice ?” 

“ No, father ; but she is now on board my ship in the 
harbor.” 

“ Then lead me to her, my son — if, indeed, you are 
my son ; though I must say that Marie de Larolahadno 
child when her husband was torn from her arms by the 
ruffians of Gaspola, and I marvel that you should claim 
me as your father.” 

“ My mother did not know that the true name of her 
husband was Anselmo di Parmetta,” replied the Ad- 
miral, “ or if she did, she never made the fact known to 
me. Why I claim you as my father, you will learn 
hereafter.” 

“ Heaven never created a purer heart than that of 


The Unknown Prisoner, 


137 


Marie,’’ said Signor Anselmo, “ and I know she cannot 
have changed. Lead me to her that she may explain 
all to me, my son. God grant that she may make all 
clear to me I” 

“ You shall be conducted to her presence, my father, 
though to see you thus will be a terrible shock to her.” 

“ I can never know how I look,” sighed the unfort- 
unate noble, as he passed his thin hands over his emaci- 
ated face. “Yet my fingers tell me that I am sadly 
withered in feature. Alas ! I am no longer the hand- 
some gallant who won her heart under the name of 
Jules de Lorola.” 

“ Captain Gaspardo,” said the Admiral to his officer, 
“ conduct Signor Anselmo to your ship. See that he be 
well cared for in the matter of raiment and food and 
attendance. Do you. Captain Siffredi — but it is best to 
be cautious,” he added, as he whispered a few hasty 
orders in the ear of the captain. 

Captain Siffredi hastened away, and turning to 
Antonio, the Admiral said : 

“ Old man, I pardon you for your attempt to slay me, 
as it was your duty to obey your lord.” 

“ Thanks, Admiral,” cried Antonio, “ but Signor 
Gaspola is no more my lord, for Signor Anselmo lives, 
and he knows my life is at his command.” 

“ Then go with him to the fleet, Antonio.” 

The Admiral, regardless of the pressure of important 
events, the shouts of men engaged in deadly combat, 
remained by his father’s side until he saw him embarked 
in a barge in company with Captain Gaspardo and 
Antonio. 

Not until the barge had left the quay of the prison, did 
the Admiral turn his attention to the progress of the 
revolution. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE RISE OF THE EXECUTIONER. 

It is, perhaps, necessary here to explain how it came 
about that Salbano the Executioner was so suddenly 
elevated to his dangerous eminence as Doge of the 
People. 

The government of the republic rested wholly upon 
a very narrow and unstable foundation, being a mere 
oligarchy of ambitious nobles, each envious and suspi- 
cious of the other. Thus a feverish anxiety ever per- 
vaded the rulers ; and this unhealthy state of the body 
politic diseased the minds of a populace naturally tur- 
bulant, and made up of many adventurers from other 
countries, mingled with these of Italian descent. 

The patricians kept down the people only by the 
most cruel and tyrannical laws, enforced by foreign 
mercenaries, whose swords their wealth easily pur- 
chased. These mercenaries, at the date of which we 
write, had become mutinous under a late decree of the 
Senate, which decreased their pay ; and when they saw 
their masters longing to cut each others’ throats, con- 
ceived the thought that the rich city could easily be 
plundered during the confusion of the various factions. 

To their surprise, however, they saw that the same 
idea had occurred to the oppressed populace, and the 
swarms of vagabonds, bravoes and desperate characters 
with which Venice was infested. . 

[138] 


I'he Rise of the Executioner, 


139 


It was Salbano who first offered himself as a leader of 
the people. For years his ignorant but ambitious mind 
had pondered upon the ease with which the populace, 
aided by the mercenary troops, could destroy the patri- 
cians and gain possession of their enormous wealth. 

Yet Salbano had hidden his thoughts in his own 
bosom, not daring to hint of them to anyone, not even 
to his wife, Sizera. 

“ Some day,” was his ever-constant hope, an oppor- 
tunity may chance in which the troops and the people 
will unite to plunder the patricians. That day will be 
my day.” 

The day had at last arrvied, and when he least 
expected it. 

The reader will remember that when the executioner 
parted from Sizera and Balthazar, in chapter ninth, 
each one fled from the panic caused by the slaying of a 
Senate official by Captain Andrea. 

It then became plain that a fierce and tumultuous 
struggle was already begun among the patricians. Sal- 
bano, in his flight, did not neglect to think, and as he 
ran he met one of the leaders of the mercenaries with 
whose mutinous disposition he was well acquainted. 

“ Ho ! Captain Dirk man, this is a rare day for 
Venice,” said Salbano, halting abruptly. “ Our mas- 
ters are fighting among themselves like wounded 
wolves. What would become of the State were the 
people and the mercenaries to unite, and demand 
redress for real or fancied grievances ?” 

The German eyed the speaker suspiciously for a 
moment, and then replied : 

“ The State would fall, Salbano. But why ask, when 
the cowardly populace dare not raise their hands in 
rebellion ?” 


140 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ They dare not, because they fear the mercena- 
ries.” 

“ But if the mercenaries were to join with the popu- 
lace ?” 

“ That you have already answered,” said Salbano. 
“ The State would fall.” 

“ I pledge the aid of my comrades,” exclaimed the 
captain with the bluntness of his nation. 

“And I that of the populace,” said Salbano. ‘‘Let 
us to the work. Meet me here within half an hour. 
Seize every boat, barge and gondola. We will share 
the wealth of our tyrants.” 

“Good!” cried the mercenary, hurrying away to 
rally his comrades. 

“ Now is my day,” muttered Salbano, as he hastened 
to collect the leaders of various bands of thieves and 
cut-throats. “The people are ripe for rebellion. If 
the Admiral succeeds, my head will fall. If Signor 
Marco succeeds, my head will fall, for he loves Fiorina. 
If Signor Gaspola succeeds, my head will fall, for I 
know too much for his peace of mind. If I fail, my 
head will fall, so my case is desperate on every side. 
If I succeed, ha ! riches, fame and revenge ; aye, and 
possession of the fairest of Venice. Ah, Sizera 1” he 
exclaimed, as he suddenl)^ encountered the giantess and 
Balthazar. 

“ What is that you are saying ?” asked Sizera. “ I 
overheard you say something of the ‘ possession of the 
fairest in Venice.” 

“ Haste, Sizera. Rouse all against the rulers of 
Venice. The fairest property of the city and of the 
State is in our power if we but strike now. The mercen- 
aries will join the people. See that you set in motion 
the cry, ‘ Salbano shall be the Doge of the people !’ 
The populace will take it up, for they will believe that 


The Rise of the ExeciUioner, 


14 


it refers only to the axe that shall fall upon the necks of 
the patricians. I will make more of it than they 
imagine. Away, Balthazar ! You have influence among 
the fishermen. Rally them at the quay St. Paul. Haste ! 
rouse all ! But remember the cry — ‘ Salbano shall be 
the Doge of the people !’ ” 

In less than ten minutes the streets began to resound 
with the cry of the easily excited mob : 

“ Salbano shall be the Doge of the People 

They shouted it as a threat,* as a menace of death to 
the nobles, but Salbano seized the chance, and assuming 
a semblance of the “Horned Bonnet ” which was the 
crown wornj by the princes of Venice, and casting a 
scarlet cloak over his shoulders, presented himself to 
the mob of people and mercenaries suddenly gathered 
upon the quay of St. Paul. 

“ Salbano is Doge of Venice ! the Doge of the people ! 
Down with the tyrants !” shouted this bold ruffian, as he 
mounted upon the base of a statue in full view of all. 

“ Hail to Salbano, our new Doge !“ roared the mercen- 
aries. “ Let him appoint his officers and we will crush 
the tyrants !” 

“ Hail to Salbano, the Doge of the people !’’ cried 
the mob, eager to have a leader, no matter who or what, 
so that he was brave, cruel and fierce. 

Salbano, however, had much administrative ability, 
and from his familiarity with the machinery of govern- 
ment, was quick in selecting and commanding his 
officers. 

He immediately seized the power cast into his hands 
by the reckless mercenaries, and, to attach them to his 
person, conferred upon them important posts. Captain 
Dirkman he made his Prime Minister, and with his aid 
he soon held in his hands all the reins of government 
so far as the mad populace was concerned. 


142 


The Execittioner of Venice. 


A rash butcher, who detested the Executioner, and 
who was envious even of what he supposed to be a mere 
mockery, dared to jeer at the new Doge as he gave 
hasty orders to this one and the other, and beginning 
to suspect that Salbano might make much of his posi- 
tion, called out : 

“ Hail to the bloody Duke and his handsome Duchess ! 
Take care, my friends, you are putting your heads into 
the jaws of the lion.*' 

Salbano heard the words, and as his fierce eyes glared 
at the speaker, pointed him out, shouting : 

A spy of the patricians ! Drag him before us ! A 
spy ! An enemy of the people !” 

The butcher was seized and dragged to the base of 
the statue, despite his cries and struggles. 

“ Do you dispute the choice of the people demanded 
Salbano, eager for an opportunity to strike terror to 
the souls of all who might wish to oppose him. “Am 
I not the Doge of the People ?” 

The luckless butcher who had been roughly handled, 
and being a man of fierce temperament, he replied : 

“ As much a Doge as I or my dog.” 

“ He insults the People,” roared Salbano. 

“ He. insults the People,” echoed the satellites of the 
Executioner. “ Off with his head !” 

“Cut it off with his own cleaver !” cried a' ruffian, 
holding up the heavy, axe-like knife which had been 
snatched from the butcher. 

“Off with his head!” bellowed the mob, taking up 
the cry. 

Powerful hands grasped the miserable man, some 
clinging to his body and limbs, and others to his hair, 
until his head was bent over an edge of the pedestal of 
the statue. 

He did not beg for mercy. He could not, had he 


The Rise of the Exeattioner. 


143 


desired to do so, for his head was twisted far back, so 
as to throw into clear view and easy reach his bull-like 
throat. 

“ Give me the cleaver,” said the Executioner. “ The 
Doge of the People should set an example and be his 
own servant.” 

He received the cleaver, poised it, balanced it in his 
hand, ran his forefinger along its edge to test its sharp- 
ness, and smiled a grim, cruel smile as he said : 

“ It has been newly sharpened How fortunate ! 
My arms are somewhat sore and stiff, as they well may 
be, since the traitor- Admiral’s sword passed through 
their muscles this morning ; yet I think I may wield a 
heavier blade than this.” 

He tossed the great knife, or rather butcher’s axe high 
in the air as he spoke, and caught it deftly by the 
handle as it felL whirled it twice around his head, cry- 
ing : 

“In the name of the People !” and at a single blow 
smote off the head of the butcher. 

Those clinging to the body let it fall to the ground, 
while Salbano called for the head, and having received 
it, held it up to the view of the people, crying : 

“ So perish all the enemies of the People !” 

Yells, shouts, clapping of hands, wild and savage 
applause answered his cry, and Salbano saw that the 
mob was ripe for any violence he might command. 

He did not see, however, that the brother of the 
slaughtered butcher, pale and trembling with rage, ' 
pushed through the mob, whispering to all his craft 
whom he met, and that his whispers were answered 
with a quick, emphatic nod of approval, and that each 
butcher addressed hurried from the spot. 

He saw and heard enough to convince him that 
“his day ” had come, and taking advantage of his sud- 


144 


The Executioner of Venice, 


den power, he commanded all to hasten towards the 
ducal palace, that the Senate might be overpowered. 

VV'e have seen how his commands were obeyed by the 
ignorant mob. His "disorderly and tumultuous array 
swept through the streets and canals until, as has 
been narrated, the palace of Donna Isabella was sacked, 
and that lady thrust into a barge to await the general 
distribution of patrician ladies among the rioters. 

Other palaces were seized and plundered, as the mob 
moved steadily and resistlessly towards the ducal resi- 
dence, which, overlooked the great square of St. Mark, 
and when the Admiral turned from the disembarkation 
of his father, he saw that there was immediate necessity 
for measures which should beat down the newly-born 
power of Salbano. 

Under the guidance of Captain Dirkmann, who was 
an able soldier, the mercenary troops had formed in 
companies and squadrons as a center, while the mob, in 
vast numbers, on either flank, encircled nearly two- 
thirds of all the squares of St. Mark. 

The ducal palace was filled with the retainers of Gas- 
pola di Parmetta’s party, and a large body of Lombard 
troops who had remained faithful to the government. 
The palace itself was a fortress, easily manned and easily 
defended. 

The great banner of the Republic, displaying the 
Winged Lion of St. Marco, was raised by Gaspola’s 
party, and the same revered standard floated over the 
numerous barges of Admiral Chaoza, who was almost 
within bowshot of the quay at the foot of what are now 
called the Giant’s Stairs. 

In the center of the great square were the retainers 
of every patrician house which favored the claims of 
Signor Marco, while the sailors and archers of Admiral 


The Rise of the ExeciUioiiej'. 


H5 


Robert’s fleet lined every quay at which Chaoza might 
desire to effect a landing. 

The Admiral saw that the battle, which thus far had 
consisted mostly in shouts and challenges, would soon 
begin. He saw too that the rebellious mercenaries and 
Salbano’s followers had paused, as if awaiting the 
expected collision between the patrician factions. 

“ Salbano is no fool,” thought the Admiral, as he 
viewed the immense front of the insurgents. “ He waits, 
to suddenly declare in favor of the most powerful 
faction and afterwards to crush that faction. It is the 
old Grecian fable of the fox, the bear and the lion, only 
in this case Executioner has the power of the lion, the 
obstinacy of the bear and the cunning of the fox.” 

Thinking thus, the Admiral hurried across "the 
square, all making way for so important a leader, until 
he appeared upon the quay nearest the approaching 
barges of Choaza. 

That leader, but partially informed of the state of 
affairs, perceiving the banners of Count Robert flying 
from every quay, and the hostile appearance of those 
who fronted him, gave a signal to his barges to halt, 
and the entire flotilla paused, barely beyond the reach 
of the crossbows of Admiral Robert’s archers. 

Raising a flag of truce, the barge of Chaoza sprang 
forward from the now stationary flotilla, and moved 
rapidly toward that quay upon which stood the tall and 
easily recognized form of Count Robert, who no longer 
wore the uniform of a captain, but the gorgeous attire 
of his high rank, and behind whom stood the Count’s 
gigantic standard-bearer, holding aloft that banner 
which his lord had made a terror to the Moslem. 

Well aware of the power of garb in the eyes of the 
populace, and no longer seeking to be unrecognized, 


146 


The Exec2itioner of Venice. 


the Count had assumed the garb of Chief Admiral 
before he stormed the prisons. 

He wore the armor of that age, profusely ornamented, 
and as Chaoza drew near, his armor-bearer and armorer 
advanced and placed upon his head his battle helmet. 

Admiral Robert left his visor up, and as Chaoza still 
approached, as if to intending land, called out, in 
a loud voice : 

“ Halt, Sir Admiral ! I think you have recognized 
me. No nearer, or your flag will not protect you.” 

Chaoza, a young man of thirty years of age, noble in 
form and feature, made a gesture to his oarsmen, and 
the barge remained motionless upon the placid waves 
of the harbor. . 

“Admiral Chaoza,” said the Count, “ you have dis- 
obeyed the written command of your superior officer. 
That you received and read my orders, my messenger 
has informed me. Why are you and your fleet in 
the port of Venice, and not, as your Chief Admiral 
commanded, cruising in the Mediterranean ?” 

“There is authority above that of Admiral Robert,” 
replied Chaozo, calmly — “ the authority of the Senate. 
By special order from the Senate, countersigned by our 
noble Doge, I was commanded to hasten, with all the 
ships I could collect, to the port of Venice. In the same 
order I was told that Count Robert would soon be 
deprived of his rank, and that I was appointed Chief 
Admiral of all the fleets of Venice.” 

With these words he tossed a packet of parchment 
upon the quay, saying : 

“ There is my authority, and by it I declare Robert 
da Vein a traitor and attainted.” 

A murmur arose among those near the Count as they 
heard these words, and a flush darkened the haughty 
features of the Count. 


The Rise of the Executioner. 


47 


A gesture from his hand quieted the murmur, and 
he replied : 

“ It is well, Chaoza, that you speak beneath a flag of 
truce, or your insolence should be punished. As it is, 
your flag protects you. What reverence I pay your 
authority to supersede me in my command you may 
judge from this.” 

So saying, the Count raised the packet of parchment 
from the ground and tossed it into the water. 

“ The Doge who signed it is dead. The tyrants who 
conceived it are trembling in the ducal palace. Venice, 
racked and dissevered, clamors for three Doges — 
Gaspola di Parmetta, your uncle, Marco del Vida, your 
cousin, and Salbano, the Chief Executioner. Of these, 
take your choice.” 

This intelligence amazed Chaoza. That his uncle 
aspired and schemed to become Prince of Venice, he 
well knew. He knew, too, that if the customary forms 
and procedure of election should fail to elevate Gaspola 
to the desired rank, he — Chaoza — was to force his uncle’s 
claims with the power of the fleets under his command ; 
but he had never suspected that his cousin Marco was 
the secret, and, as events declared, the powerful rival of 
Gaspola. 

“ Should you attempt to force a landing,” continued 
the Count, “ I will resist you with all my strength. The 
slaughter once begun, who can stay it ?” As many 
nay, more, declare for Signor Marco among the patri- 
cians. Take my advice, Chaoza, for I respect you as a 
brave man. Return to your ships and leave the decis- 
ion of this matter to those who have opened it.” 

I must see Signor Gaspola ere I decide,” replied 
Chaoza, firmly. 

“That T forbid,” said the Count, as firmly. “Join 
your forces with mine, and we will put down Salbano 


148 


The Executioner of Venice, 


and his followers ere he destroys the palaces and mas- 
sacres the families of the patricians.” 

“ And after Aat ?” demanded Chaoza. 

“ After that let our voices decide wtio shall be Doge 
of Venice.” 

“ But that will be but a continuance of the strife,” 
urged Chaoza, whose quick mind at once grasped the 
whole situation. “ I am in favor of Signor Gaspola, and 
doubtless you are for Signor Marco.” 

“ I was, but I may not be,” replied the Admiral, It 
is true that I have pledged my aid to Signor Marco, to 
punish the tyrants of Venice, and to lift the burden of 
tyranny from the necks of the people. So far — no 
more. I have never pledged my aid to make him Doge. 
In truth, I never suspected that he aimed so high. 
Decide, Admiral Chaoza. It is for say whether 

we shall save Venice from ruin of fill her canals with 
blood.” 

“ I will return to my ships and consult with my cap- 
tains,” replied Chaoza, anxious to gain time. 

“ You desire to play the part which is being played 
by Salbano,” said the Count, sternly. “ Though brave, 
you are treacherous in your ambition, Chaoza. Listen : 
the Executioner has been proclaimed Doge by the 
people ; the mercenary troops have revolted and united 
their strength with that of the people ; the patricians 
stand, sword in hand, awaiting the expected signal to 
leap at each other’s throats. In the midst of the strug- 
gle, when one side or the other shall have begun to give 
way, when hundreds of patricians shall have been slain 
or wounded ; when your sailors and mine shall have 
torn each other in pieces, Salbano will pour in his 
thousands and win the day. Is it your purpose to do 
the same ?” 

“ As Venice has no head able to protect me and my 


The Pei^il of Flo^'ina. 


T49 


interests,” replied Chaoza, “I will retire to my ships 
and await further information.” 

“ It is no longer in your power to do so, Chaoza,” said 
the Count, extending his sword towards the port. 

Chaoza turned quickly and saw that the fleet of Count 
Robert, the ships and galleys propelled by immense 
oars in use at that day, was moving towards his own 
fleet. 

“ What does that mean ?” demanded Chaoza. 

“ Captain Siffredi, who commands the fleet in my 
absence,” replied the Count, calmly, “ is obeying my 
orders. He is about to seize the ships and galleys of 
Admiral Chaoza.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE PERIL OF FLORINA. 

After receiving the last command of his mistress, the 
gondolier of Donna Clara plied his oar with redoubled 
speed He had no wish to remain near the scene of 
excitement, being of a prudent and unwarlike nature. 

Under his exertions the gondola glided rapidly 
through the most deserted canals after leaving behind 
the thronged thoroughfares. 

Fiorina remained silent, unwilling to converse with 
the mysterious woman into whose power she had fallen. 

Donna Clara also said nothing until the gondolier, 
tapping at the pavilion lattice, said : 

“ M)’’ lady, we are approaching the house of Sebastian. 
He is about to enter his gondola, doubtless to take part 
in the revolution.” 

” Signal to him to remain,” said Donna Clara, quickly. 


The Executioner of Venice, 


150 


“ Can we not find refuge elsewhere than in the house 
of Sebastian ?” asked Fiorina. 

“We cannot,” replied Donna Cfara, sharply. And 
then, as if aware that her tone was strangely unfriendly 
for one who claimed to be the mother of Fiorina, she 
added, in a milder tone, “ No, my child ; I know of no 
other place. Do you ?” 

“ Oh, yes,” exclaimed Fiorina, eagerly ; “ I am sure 
we will receive protection on board the ship of Admiral 
Robert.” 

“ He is not there, my child, and none of those on the 
ship know you or me. We will first seek refuge with 
Sebastian, and as soon as we hear that the Admiral is 
in a position to protect us, we will send him word 
where we are.” 

Fiorina was forced to be content with this, though she 
resolved to part from Donna Clara as soon as possible. 

The gondola glided to the quay of the house of the 
assassin, a lonely, dark-looking house, standing by itself 
in the midst of a basin formed by the termination or 
intersection of several canals. • 

A narrow pavement encircled the structure, yet there 
was no communication between it and the pavements 
of the adjacent canals, except by means of boats, two 
or three of which were fastened to the quay. 

On the quay stood a tall, thin man, of a dark and 
gloomy countenance, with dull, heavy eyes, seldom 
raised to meet the gaze of those whom he addressed. 

Sebastian Peno, shunned and detested, loathed and 
feared by all men of every class, was a professional 
assassin. He made no secret of that. He could not, if 
he would. He was protected by the State. 

Men had often been condemned to death by the 
tyrants of Venice— men too distinguished by rank, 
wealth, influence or connections, to be arrested on any 


The Peril of Fiorina, 


151 


charge which could be proved against them on trial, 
and vSebastian was, the officer of the State whose deadly 
and secret thrust ever removed the condemned. 

Fiorina trembled as she saw this man. She had seen 
him often before, for he had visited the house of the 
Executioner, and related to Salbano and Sizera many of 
his terrible deeds, while the Executioner, in his turn, 
told many of his own. 

The unfortunate maiden had grown up amid an 
atmosphere tainted, saturated with blood and cruelty, 
yet her pure soul had imbibed nothing save horror of 
those around her. 

Forced now to take refuge, for at least a time, in the 
house of him whom she justly believed to be the most 
horrible of all, she gazed at him with a fearful but 
observant eye. He raised his heavy, ox-like eyes to hers 
for an instant, as she and Donna Clara stepped from the 
gondola, and nodded a recognition. He did not smile, 
nor seem surprised to see her there. 

It was whispered in Venice that Sebastian never 
smiled except as he drew his stiletto from the hearts of 
his victims. 

No emotion was ever visible upon his sallow, thin 
features. Cold, impassive as marble, neither eye nor 
lip ever betrayed his feelings. 

He raised his hand to his cap when Donna Clara 
addressed him, gazing upon the ground at his feet as if 
his eyes feared the light of the sky. 

“ You were about to go away, Sebastian ?” 

“ The hour has passed long ago, my lady,” he replied, 
in a low, deep tone. 

“ I have been delayed far beyond my expectations, 
Sebastian. Have those who should be here also 
departed ?” 

They would have done so, my lady, had not reports 


152 


The Exectttioner of Vefiice. 


of revolution and strife made them afraid. The priest 
and the women still await you and t];ie maiden.” 

Fiorina heard those words with sudden alarm ; but 
she made no remark. She still wore her mask, and 
judged that Sebastian had recognized her by her dress, 
which was one he had seen her wear before. But his 
last words proved that Donna Clara had been actuated 
by no sudden resolution in seeking refuge at his house. 

It was plain that Donna Clara had selected this house 
for some mysterious purpose before she saw Fiorina 
that morning. That she had companions awaiting her 
return with Fiorina. 

“Lead us into your house, Sebastian,” said Donna 
Clara. “ We are losing time.” 

“ And I am losing much spoil, ni)^ lady, in being 
absent from where the people are making themselves 
richo I heard from a gondolier who passed not long 
since that Salbano was proclaimed Doge by the people, 
and that the patricians were to be swept from exist- 
ence. 

“ vSilence,” said Donna Clara, in her sharpest voice. 
“ The populace may have full sway for a day or a few 
days, but the patricians will triumph in the end, and 
then their vengeance will begin. Remain to patrol 
around your house until I say, ‘ All is well,’ and then if 
you desire to risk your life in the broil, depart. There 
is one in Venice whom you may well dread to meet. I 
mean the French Ambassador, who arrived but yester- 
day.” 

“ The French Ambassador ? I have nothing to fear 
from any Ambassador, my lady. May I ask his 
name ?” 

“ He is called in Venice the Sieur D’Abrette, but I 
will tell you his true name,” replied Donna Clara draw- 
ing near to the assassin and whispering in his ear. 


The Peril of Fiorina. 153 


Sebastian did not start, nor show surprise ; yet his 
eyes were suddenly lifted from the ground and rolled 
about him as if he expected to see an enemy near. 

Florma noticed, however, that his hand glided to his 
belt and plucked at the shield of his stiletto. 

“ They are speaking of the French Ambassador,” she 
thought, for she had heard Donna Clara mention the 
name D’Abrette. “ Would to heaven that he were here 
to protect me from what ? From whom ? I know not, 
yet I fear Donna Clara and her designs. My mother ! 
Oh, no I she cannot be my mother, or my heart would 
tell me to love her. Alas ! my heart warns me to fear 
her!” 

“ Lead on, Sebastian,” said Donna Clara, impatiently. 

Sebastian turned aside from the quay and followed 
by Donna Clara, whose hand now grasped Fiorina’s 
wrist, opened the tall and narrow door which gave 
entrance to his abode. 

The assassin had neither wife nor child, but lived 
there alone in his infamy in that dark and solitary 
house. 

Proceeding a few paces he turned into a small and 
rudely furnished apartment, in which sat two persons, 
one in the garb of a friar. The other was a woman 
and Fiorina started with surprise as she saw that the 
features of this woman were almost a perfect counter- 
part of those of Donna Clara. 

So remarkable was this similarity that had not Fior- 
ina known that Donna Clara was grasping her wrist, 
she would have believed this woman to be Donna 
Clara. 

“ This is my sister, your aunt, my child,” said Donna 
Clara ; and then to the woman she added : “ He — you 
know whom I mean — he of France is in Venice. I 


154 


The Executioner of Venice. 


have felt the weight of his hand, I have been in his 
power and have escaped.” 

He in Venice !” exclaimed the woman, turning pale 
and springing to her feet. “ For what ? Oh, it is 
impossible !” 

“ T tell you it is true, Louise,” replied Donna Clara. 
“Worse than all, he recognized me.” 

“ Then what is to be done must be done immedi- 
ately,” said Donna Louise. “ Does she know ? Does 
she suspect ?” she added, pointing at Fiorina. 

“ No, she does not suspect.” 

“You have made no mistake? You are sure this is 
the right person ? Take off your mask, my dear niece, 
that I may see your face.” 

Fiorina obeyed, for she knew not what else to do. 

“ Heavens ! what a perfect resemblance !” exclaimed 
Donna Louise, recoiling. “ Ah, there is no mistake !” 

“ Why should there be ? How could there be a mis- 
take when I have never lost sight of her since I placed 
her in the care of the Executioner,” replied Donna 
Clara. 

“ Tell her what she has before her. Heed all that 
your aunt commands,” she added to Fiorina. “ All that 
she commands is with my consent. Obey her, if you 
wish to win my love and hers. I must leave you ; but 
there will soon be one here more able than I to protect 
you. I must hasten elsewhere to prepare means for 
flight from Venice.” 

“ You promised to seek speedy refuge on board of 
the Admiral’s ship,” exclaimed Fiorina. 

“ The Admiral’s ship !” laughed Donna Clara. “ My 
dear child, I may as well tell you now as ever, that I do 
not wish you to marry Admiral Robert or ever to see 
him again.'’ 

“ Good heavens ! it was you who told me that the 


The Peril of Fiorina. 


155 


French Ambassador did not wish that I should fall 
under the care of the Admiral ! Now you declare that 
you do not wish me ever to see him again !” 

“ So she, has a lover ?” asked Donna Louise. 

“ A very powerful one — no less than Count Robert, 
Admiral of all the fleets of Venice. But the Admiral 
has more serious matters on his hands now than he can 
attend to. His life is in danger and, but for the pres- 
ence of the French Ambassador in Venice, never was 
there a better time to forward our scheme to a success- 
ful end. Salbano and his brood, who might have given 
us trouble, have more than enough to demand their 
attention. Gaspola di Parmetta, whose consent we had 
bargained for, but whom we have not paid, we need not 
heed, for he is in peril and trouble from which he will 
be fortunate to escape with his head upon his shoulders. 
Signor Marco, who had learned much if not all that we 
know, and who is too ambitious to be bought or who 
really loves Fiorina, is up to his eyes in the sea of strife. 
So, but for the presence of the French Ambassador, all 
would be unthreatened. No, my child, you cannot — 
shall not — marry Admiral Robert. There is another 
whom you may and shall marry, and for that and no 
other purpose are you in the house of Sebastian.” 

“ What .? you have bade me hither to be married T 
cried the amazed maiden, clasping her hands. “ To 
whom ? Not to the infamous Balthazar ? Great God ! 
are 5"ou, who pretend to be my mother, an accomplice 
of Salbano, of Rapal, of Sizera ?” 

“ You are mad. Did I not snatch you from the pur- 
suit of Sizera ? Did I not stab old Rapal who sought to 
impede your escape ?” demanded Donna Clara. “ He 
to whom I am about to give you ” 

“ What ? is he here ? In this room, or in this house 
cried Fiorina, flashing her eyes around her. 


The Executioner of Venice. 


156 


There was no one in the room except Donna Clara, 
Donna Louise, and the cowled friar. Sebastian had 
withdrawn to the quay, and was passing rapidly, mak- 
ing complete circuits of his lonely dwelling, and watch- 
ing the deserted canals as far as his eyes could see. 
Donna Clara had whispered to him a name so potent 
that the assassin trembled as he paced his rounds. 

“ The person to whom you are to be married, my 
child,” replied Donna Clara, “ is in this house. You will 
see him presently. You need not attempt to resist your 
fate. Important reasons, vitally affecting vast interests, 
demand that you shall, within a few minutes, become 
the wife of Henri de Bale, a Bavarian noble. It is use- 
less for you to resist, my child. I am extremely sorry 
that it should be so.” 

With these words, Donna Clara left the apartment, 
leaving the astounded maiden speechless with wonder 
and terror. 

“ Why look so frightened ?” said Donna Louise, 
soothingly. ‘‘ You were about to become the wife of 
the hideous Balthazar. But for the timely aid of 
Donna Clara, your mother — ” 

No, no ; she cannot be my mother,” cried Fiorina, 
wildly. “ If she were my mother, she would not tram- 
ple upon my heart, and force me to wed a man whom I 
have never seen, who has never seen me ; whom I shall 
hate, and who will hate me.” 

“ Count Henri — for he is count, and famous too — will 
love you,” replied Donna Louise. “ He has seen you ; 
he loves you. Because you were the adopted daughter of 
headsman, do you think that none loved you ? You 
are as fair as a queen, as handsome as a princess. 
Admiral Robert, indeed ! Who is he ? A rude sailor 
—a nobody, who has sprung from a ditch ! Why, it is 


The Pei'il of Fiorina. 


157 


said in Bavaria that he does not even know the name of 
his father.” 

“Oh, would to God that he were here !” cried Fiorina, 
rushing to the door. “ Ah, Donna Clara has bolted it 
without ! I cannot escape.” 

“ No ; and if you could escape from the house, could 
you reach the opposite quays by water, while Sebastian 
guards the gondola ?” said Donna Louise. “ Be patient, 
my dear niece — we cannot avoid our fate.” 

“You, holy father, will not lend your aid to this evil 
deed,” exclaimed Fiorina, casting herself upon her 
knees before the friar. 

The friar threw back his cowl, and revealed a hard, 
cold, and cruel face, so utterly devoid of all kindly feeling 
that Fiorina recoiled from it in dismay. 

She remembered that face well. Often had she 
shrunk from the keen glance of the black and deep set 
eyes as she encountered them in her wanderings upon 
the squares, quays and bridges of Venice. 

It had often occurred to her that this friar, who was 
known in Venice as Fra Bartolo, was secretly watch- 
ing her, for she met him everywhere. Thrice had he 
passed near her while her lover was with her, the year 
before. Often had she seen that dark robe gliding 
along the pavements opposite the house of the Execu- 
tioner, while its owner stole sharp glances at her as she 
leaned from the window. 

It now flashed upon her mind that she was the help- 
less victim of a deep-laid and long-nurtured plot. 

Donna Clara had evidently selected this dark friar to 
consummate her treacherous purposes — had evidently 
had him in her service as a spy for years. 

From him, therefore, Fiorina had little hope of rescue. 
Yet she clasped his knees and gazing tearfully into his 


7 he Executionei'’ of Venice, 


158 


face, pleaded for escape from the fate which threatened 
her, 

‘‘Pity me, father! pity a helpless, friendless girl! 
Do not — I implore, I beg you— force a mockery of mar- 
riage upon me. I have never seen this Bavarian ” 

“ You err, daughter. Henri de Bale is a Frank,” 
interrupted the friar, in a tone as cold as ice. 

“ I have never seen nor heard of him, father. How 
can I .promise to love him ? I love another ; I have 
promised to marry him ; I have taken a solemn vow 
never to wed another.” 

“ I will loose you from that vow.” 

“ I do not wish that ; I love Admiral Robert.” 

“ Peace, silly girl ! Important interests command 
me to wed you to Lord Henri,” said Fra Bartolo, 
sternly. 

“ Ah, you are pitiless !” exclaimed Fiorina, rising and 
kneeling at the feet of Donna Louise. “ But you, lady, 
are a woman — have pity, mercy !” 

“ Child, how foolish is all this senseless protestation 
against what must be !” replied Donna Louise, harshly. 
“ When you were an infant, Lord Henri was selected to 
become your husband when you should have attained 
the age of sixteen years. Before you were born, 
Fiorina, it was decided that it should be. Do you 
imagine then, that those who, for more than sixteen 
years have looked forward to it as a thing accomplished, 
will now, because a silly child’ sheds tears of foolish 
resistance, cast away their plans and labors ?” 

“ Thou, oh God !” exclaimed the iinhappy maiden, 
raising her face and hands towards heaven, — “ Thou, oh 
Merciful Father of the orphan, wilt aid me in my 
distress !” 

In this posture, kneeling and silently praying, she 


llie Peril of Fiorina. 


59 


remained, heedless of the hypocritical soothing of 
Donna Louise and the harsh rebukes of Fra Bartolo ; 
until the door was opened, and a cavalier entered, 
masked and clad in black velvet. 

He entered alone, and carefully closed the door 
behind him, 

Fiorina heard the opening and closing of the door, the 
clinking of a sheathed sword, and the firm step of a 
booted man. She trembled excessively ; for she felt 
that Lord Henri was near and, doubtless, impatient to 
call her his wife. 

Ah !” she thought, as she wrung her hands, “ who 
am I ? what am I that this nobleman, of whom I have 
never heard, should combine with others, also unknown 
to me, to make me his wife ?” 

“ Rise, daughter !” said Fra Bartolo, in obedience to 
a gesture made by the cavalier. “ Lord Henri is here, 
and awaits the ceremony.” 

Fiorina sprang to her feet, resolved to appeal to this 
noble as her last and only earthly resource. 

To her amazement, he was masked. She was not 
only to be wedded to a man of whom she knew abso- 
lutely nothing, but to a man whose very face was 
hidden. 

Still her resolution did not sink beneath this cruel 
surprise. She knelt before him, and exclaimed, with all 
the melting pathos of her sweet voice : 

My lord, why do you wish to wed me ? I love 
another. I have no heart to give you. My love is 
solemnly pledged to another. I shall never love you as 
a wife should love. Do not perpetrate so great a 
cruelty — so great a crime. See, I am on my knees, 
weak, helpless ! a poor, friendless child. Treachery 
brought me here — ah, the treachery of one who calls 
herself my mother. Mercy, mercy, my lord ! You do 


i6o 


The Executioner of Ve^iice. 


not speak — you do not show your face ! Let me, at 
least, behold the features of the man who wishes me to 
become his wife.” 

Lord Henri made no reply, nor did he remove his 
mask. He was a man of small stature and elegant 
bearing, standing firmly upon his feet as one of resolute 
mind and his jet black eyes gleamed from the holes of 
his mask with remarkable brilliancy. But no other 
feature of his face was visible, for the curtain of black 
silk attached to the mask concealed even his chin and 
his beard, if any he wore. 

He made an imperative gesture with his gloved hand 
to the friar, and the latter advanced to Fiorina. 

“ Rise, daughter,” he said sternly, as he grasped her 
arm, — “rise ! you are wasting precious time. Lord 
Henri commands that the ceremony shall proceed 
immediately.” 

“ He has not spoken,” cried Fiorina, piteously. “ Alas, 
am I not even to hear the voice of the one who wishes 
to force me to be his wife ? Ah, my lord !” she 
exclaimed, springing to her feet and assuming a haughty, 
scornful air, “ I despise you J” 

She extended her hand towards him as she spoke, 
standing erect and defiant — her brilliant beauty of form 
and feature adding vastly to the force of her stinging 
words. 

“I despise you. You are a coward. You dare not 
show your face. It would blush for your cruel, cowardly 
acts. You dare not speak. Your voice would tremble 
to utter your baseness of heart. I scorn, I loathe, I 
detest you. Never will I consent to be your wife — 
never, so help me heaven, whose speedy aid I beseech.” 



] ; • 

CHAPTER XV. 

SIZERA AND BALTHAZAR. 

Fiorina's words were still thrilling- from her lips 
when Sebastian’s voice was heard at the door. 

Lord Henri turned quickly and opened it. 

My lord,” said the assassin, in a grave voice, “ I see a 
crowd of boats and gondoliers rapidly approaching on 
the Canal Marino. They may intend to do something 
here, or may pass on.” 

“ Do they show no standard or banner ?” asked Lord 
Henri, in a low whisper, ** Are they of the patricians 
or of the people !” 

“ Of the people, no doubt, for they preserve no order 
in their advance, and are shouting. Listen, you may 
hear them even now.” 

The sound of many voices, dulled by the distance, but 
plainly the roar of a clamorous and excited mob, fell 
upon the ears of all within the room. 

“ It is not probable that they will halt here,” whis- 
pered Lord Henri. “ No doubt they are but a plunder- 
ing band, aiming for the palace of some hated patrician. 
Return to your watch, yet see that my gondola and 
Ernetti are ready at a moment’s warning.” 

** Ernetti has already fled, my lord. But my gondola 
is as fleet as any in Venice, and it shall be ready,” 
replied Sebastian, as he retired. 


[i6i] 



i 62 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Lord Henri closed the door and repeated his impera- 
tive gesture for the friar to proceed. He enforced the 
gesture with a stamp of his foot. 

“ Coward ! You dare not speak !" exclaimed Fiorina. 
“ Embodiment of crime and cowardice, I refuse to be 
your wife.” 

Lord Henri repeated the gesture furiously, and Fra 
Bartolo began the service, speaking rapidly. 

Fiorina resolutely covered her ears with her hands, 
determined that she should not hear a single word 
uttered by the degraded man who thus outraged his 
holy profession. 

Donna Louise crept behind her and pulled down her 
arms, holding them with a firm grasp, saying sharply : 

“ You shall hear. I will make the responses for you.” 

“ It is a mockery ! It is an outrage ! It is a crime ! 
Cruel woman, God will punish you for this. Lord Henri, 
I will appeal to the Senate, to the Church, to Venice.” 

Fra Bartolo hurried through the ceremony, and Donna 
Louise forced Fiorina’s hand into that of Lord Henri, 
who slipped a ring upon her finger, and held her hand 
firmly in his own until the friar said : 

“ It is done, my lord. The lady is your wife.” 

“ Wretch !” exclaimed Fiorina. “ It is false ! It is a 
mockery ! You dare not, impious as you are, ask the 
blessing of heaven upon this crime.” 

“ My lord,” said the deep, grave voice of Sebastian at 
the door, “ it is evidently the intention of the mob to 
land at this .house. They are almost within bow-shot, 
and I have heard my name shouted, whether with 
hatred or friendship I know not. The wife of the Chief 
Executioner is in the foremost boat, and she points at 
my house. Fly, or you will be slain for a patrician. 
Your dress will betray you.” 


Sizer a and Balthazar. 


163 


And these ?” whispered Lord Henri, gesticulating 
toward the others. 

“ Fra Bartolo is well known to many," replied Sebas- 
tian. “ He may remain with Donna Louise, who, being 
a woman not in the garb of a patrician lady, will not be 
molested. Balthazar is with Sizera, and it is that lady 
whom they seek," he added, pointing at Fiorina. 
“ Haste, my lord, or the mob will slay you." 

“ Sizera and Balthazar ! Great heaven !" exclaimed 
Fiorina, as she heard the words of the assassin. “ Those 
wretches still pursue me. God help me !" 

“ You see now that we are your friends," said Donna 
Louise. “ We would save you from the horrible fate of 
being Balthazar’s wife. You are now the wife of a 
gallant nobleman who will strive to make you happy." 

" The wife of a man who marries, or rather pretends 
to marry me by force !" cried Fiorina. “ The wife of 
a man who dares not show me his face ! Who dares 
not raise his voice above a whisper, lest something of 
his true character be revealed. What a fate ! Angels 
in Heaven defend me — save me ere it be too late !" 

" It is too late, silly girl," said Donna Louise, curtly. 
“You are now the wife of Henri Glavedien, Count de 
Bal6." 

“ I deny it ! It was a mockery," replied Fiorina 
passionately. 

Meanwhile Lord Henri had put on the long gown of 
serge worn by Fra Bartolo, drawn the great cowl over 
his head, and thus totally concealed his dress. 

“ Go," said the friar to Fiorina. “ Go with Lord 
Henri— your husband ; unless you prefer to remain to 
fall into the hands of Sizera and Balthazar." 

Lord Henri grasped her arm, and Fiorina, dreading 
the fate which she knew the merciless Sizera desired to 


164 


The Exectitioner of Venice, 


inflict upon her, dreading the loathsome embraces of 
the hideous Balthazar, made no resistance. 

Lord Henri and Sebastian led her to the north side of 
the house, and as they embarked in the gondola of the 
Assassin, they could not see or be seen by the mob, 
which was approaching on the south side. 

“ I will keep the house between us and the mob as 
long as possible,” said Sebastian, as he plied his oar. 
“ I regret that my gondola is too small to take Fra 
Bartolo and Donna Louise with us. It was built for 
my own use, and seldom carries any other, and then 
that other, my lord, is never alive.” ' 

Fiorina shuddered as she heard these words, for she 
had heard before that no living man, except the mid- 
night bravo, ever put foot in that gondola. Besides 
him it never bore any human thing, unless that thing 
was a warm and bleeding corpse, smitten thus by 
Sebastian's hand, and on its lonely, dismal way to be 
cast into the infamous waters of the Canal Orfano. 

The pavilion was like a hearse, long and narrow, with 
heavy black curtains to shut out all inquisitive eyes, 
devoid of cushioned seats, the floor covered with canvas 
painted black, and besmeared with many a stain, which 
the trembling maiden knew had been made by the 
blood of assassinated men. 

Lord Henri made no reply aloud, but whispered some 
command to Sebastian, who replied : 

“ It may serve in a strait, my lord,” and then leaving 
his oar in the noble’s hands for a moment, he lifted the 
end curtains of the pavilion and said to Fiorina : 

“ It is my lord’s command that in the event of any 
danger of capture your ladyship must recline at full 
length upon the floor of the pavilion as if you were a 
corpse. Here is a sheet of silk — I pledge you my soul, 
my lady, that it is new and hath never been used, I 


Sizera and Balthazar, 


1^5 


purchased it yesterday — the old one having become a 
mere rag,” said he, tossing in a large roll of black stuff, 
a kind Of coarse silk. “ Lie down, cover yourself from 
head to feet with the sheet, and be as motionless as 
that which for a time you may desire to appear.” 

Sebastian returned to the oar, leaving the unfortun- 
ate girl a prey to her fearful thoughts. 

She instantly comprehended the intended ruse of the 
assassin. Should the gondola be overtaken or headed 
off by the mob, Lord Henri, wearing the well-known 
garb of Fra Bartolo, would be supposed to be that friar 
accompanying the dread official of the Senate to the 
Canal Orfano to witness the last of some- condemned 
and fallen man. Should any hand, more bold than rev- 
erential to the dead, raise the curtains of the pavilion, 
an apparently lifeless body would be seen outlined 
beneath the black sheet. 

Few if any of the superstitious populace would dare 
lift that sable pall to peer beneath, for the cunning of 
the sanguinary Senate had spread abroad the belief 
that whoever should dare to raise that pall would be 
the next victim of the Assassin. 

“ It is terrible,” thought Fiorina, “ yet better that 
than to fall into the power of Sizera.” 

But a few moments had passed when Sebastian again 
addressed her. 

My lady, we are about to be surrounded by the 
boats of the people. As you desire not to fall into the 
hands of Sizera, be careful.” 

The persecuted maiden extended her form at full 
length upon the floor of the pavilion, and with a shud- 
der of horror disposed the pall over her face and 
her person. 

The basin formed by the intersection of the canals 
was being thronged with craft of all kinds which issued 


The Executioner of Venice. 


1 66 


from each course of water. The retreat of Sebastian 
was completely cut off. 

Sizera and Balthazar, whose vindictive pursuit had 
traced Fiorina to the house of the public assassin, having 
searched it and found no one, for Fra Bartolo and 
Donna Louise had concealed themselves in a dark 
cellar, suddenly espied the gondola of the assassin about 
to be surrounded by the boats of the insurgents. 

“ See,” cried Sizera, “ there is Sebastian.” 

“Ay, but it is the gondola with the blue and white 
flag which I wish to see,” replied Balthazar, sullenly. 
“ Fiorina and the strange woman escaped in such a 
gondola.” 

“ Down with the Assassin !” shouted the mob. “ Kill 
the butcher ! Stone him ! Drown him ! Hang him !” 
yelled a thousand throats, as the gondola of Sebastian 
was recognized. 

“ It seems that they clamor for my life,” said the 
assassin with an unmoved countenance, though his 
sallow face grew sickly pale. 

“ And why ?” asked Lord Henri, yet in a tone too 
subdued to reach Fiorina. “ You are one of the people.” 

“ True, but hated by the people because the cowards 
feared me. Why do you wish to harm me ?” cried 
Sebastian, as his gondola was surrounded by a mob of 
boats. “ Am I not of the people ?” 

“ You are the assassin of the people !” replied one of 
the mob. 

“ No, I am the slayer of the patricians, my friends. 
Are you not now striving to destroy the tyrants ? Who 
dares to say that Sebastian Peon ever harmed one of the 
people .? By the command of patricians I slew patric- 
ians, and all patricians are the enemies of the people.” 
“ Good I He reasons well !” roared a burly fellow, 


Sizera and Balthazar. 


167 


whose savage strength and great ferocity made him a 
sort of leader of his fellows. 

'‘It is true, my friends,” continued Sabastian, 
delighted to see that the blind rage of the populace was 
so readily diverted. “ I know why you cried ‘ Slay 
Sebastian !’ It was because you thought him a friend 
of the patricians. I hate them. I have hated them 
since I could walk. I hated them so deeply that I 
sought and obtained the office of Assassin, that my 
stiletto when it struck should strike the heart of a 
patrician !’* 

“ Bravo ! bravo i Long live Sebastian Peon !” bel- 
lowed the mob. 

" Let me pass on, then, my friends,’* said Sebastian. 
“ Even now I bear to Canal Orfano the body of one of 
our tyrants whom I slew but last night at the com- 
mand of the Council of Ten. Let me pass on, and my 
duty done I will follow the vengeance of the people.” 

** Make way for Sebastian !” shouted the mob, strug- 
gling to open an avenue through the throng of boats. 

“ Sebastian !” screamed Sizera, whose boat had been 
forced near by Balthazar, “ have you seen Fiorina this 
morning ? We have traced her to your house.” 

“Aye, she was there not over half an hour since, 
Donna Sizera. She came with a lady unknown to me, 
but immediately went away. I did not notice partic- 
ularly in what direction the gondola went. I think 
toward the ducal palace.” 

“ The wretch ! She still baffles our pursuit,” snarled 
Sizera, as her hand clung to the edge of Sebastian’s 
gondola, holding her own boat alongside. 

She was at the side of the pavilion, which hid Fiorina ; 
the black curtains touched Sizera’s gaunt and bony 
hands as she spoke. Fiorina was in an agony of fear 


1 68 The Exectitioner of Venice, 


lest her fortitude might give way amid her dread and 
terror of discovery, 

“You say you have the body of a patrician,” cried 
Sizera, ever suspicious, and raising the black curtains. 
“ I will see,” 

She thrust in her hideous head and glared about the 
interior. Beyond doubt there was a human form 
stretched beneath the pall. She touched that form to 
be certain of no deception, and withdrew her hand, 
saying : 

“ It is true. There is a body there.” 

Fiorina nearly shrieked when she felt the touch of the 
horrible woman. Discovery and capture seemed inevi- 
table. 

“ Raise the pall and see who is dead,” said Sebastian. 
“ Raise it, Donna Sizera.” 

“ What ! and be the next victim of your midnight 
stiletto !” cried the superstitious hag, recoiling from the 
gondola. 

“ Fra Bartolo ! We must have Fra Bartolo !” cried a 
voice. 

“ For what ? Why disturb the holy man, who goes 
with me to see the last of my dead ?” demanded Sebas- 
tian. 

“We need him that he may shrive our tyrants ere we 
cut off their heads.” 

This conceit pleased the mad populace, and a storm 
of cries for Fra Bartolo shook the air. 

■ The real Fra Bartolo, hidden in the cellar of the 
assassin’s house, heard this roar, and trembled lest he 
was about to be unearthed. 

The fictitious Fra Bartolo drew his cowl more closely 
over his face, and cursed in his heart the whims of the 
mob. 

“ You must feign to yield, my lord,” whispered Sebas- 


Sizera and Balthazar, 


169 


tian, or they will seize you, and thus the deceit will be 
discovered. Go with them — escape as soon as possible 
— and I will await you on the Canal Orfano beneath 
the third bridge. Haste ! You see that they will have 
their wish,” 

Lord Henri, perceiving that a ’hundred arms were 
stretched out to grasp him if he longer delayed, stepped 
into the nearest boat, which happened to be that of 
Sizera. 

The friar was not a tall man, and Lord Henri was 
nearly of the same size ; and as he had taken the pre- 
caution to exchange his boots for the sandals of Fra 
Bartolo before he left Sebastian’s house, none sus- 
pected the truth. 

The dingy black gown and cowl of Fra Bartolo, with 
its white cross upon the left shoulder, were well known 
in Venice — far better known than his face, for that the 
friar alw^ays kept jealously cowled. 

Lord Henri sat down in the bow of Sizera’s boat, 
silently cursing the fortune which had so unexpectedly 
separated him from his unwilling bride, and resolved to 
escape as soon as possible, and hasten to rejoin Sebas- 
tian, 

A long but very narrow avenue through the boats 
was now formed, and the gondola of the assassin began 
to glide away, when suddenly a new whim seized the 
populace, 

“We will take Sebastian with us!” cried a voice. 
** He is a man of judgment and discretion. He deserves 
an office at our hands. He shall be one of our leaders !” 

“ Bravo ! Sebastian shall be one of our leaders I” 
roared the mob, clapping their hands. “ Hail to the 
noble Sebastian !*' 

I seek no office. 1 desire no office !” exclaimed 


170 The Executioner of Venice. 


Sebastian, greatly disturbed in mind by this sudden 
popularity„ 

“ He who refuses to serve the people is no friend V* 
cried a voice ; and the cry was repeated so unani- 
mously that Sebastian perceived danger in the air. If 
he refused, the mob might become infuriated and tear 
him to pieces. 

“ At least, my friends,” he cried, “ permit me to carry 
my dead to the Canal Orfano. Having cast the body 
into the canal, I will return and gladly accept any 
office at your hands,” 

“ We need you now. We have no head leader here, 
and we are in a hurry to join our friends under Salbano.” 

“ Toss the body overboard here !” 

“ Or overturn the gondola !” 

“ What difference does it make to the dead noble 
where he is cast !” 

These and hundreds of other fierce cries warned 
Sebastian that he must yield. 

Fiorina, trembling beneath the pall, now gave up all 
hope of escape from the furious Sizera, If the mob 
overturned the gondola she would be drowned, or, if 
she attempted to swim, would be dragged forth by 
Sizera, or slain by the people as an escaping patrician. 

Sabastian, cool and cunning amid all the confusion 
around him, shouted at the top of his voice, and 
extended his hands for silence that he might be heard. 

A lull having been obtained at the very moment 
when the light gondola began to rock violently under 
the rude hands which had grasped it, the assassin cried : 

“I will go with you. (Applause.) I will be your 
leader. (Wild shouts and cries of Bravo !) But I must 
first be declared your leader, or I will not go with you. 
(More shouts, a roar^ a storm of assent) You promise 
to obey me ? It is welt I go with you, my friends, 


Sizer a and Balthazar. 


171 


but my first command is, that I go in my own gondola, 
taking my dead with me. Forward !” 

Pleased with this horrible conceit as with everything 
novel, the populace bellowed with delight, and the 
boats were urged on towards the ducal palace. 

“ Keep near me, Balthazar,” shouted Sebastian, who 
saw that the boat of the latter was gradually being 
forced from his vicinity, and anxious to be near Lord 
Henri, that they might act in concert when chance 
should arise. 

But at that moment the mob received a sharp hint 
that the power of the patricians was not so totally in 
confusion as they imagined. 

The disorderly flotilla had moved some distance from 
the basin, and was sweeping in wild confusion along a 
canal when their advance was checked by the sudden 
appearance of a strong force of Lombard troops on both 
sides of the canal, bearing the banner of Signor Marco. 

There were no mercenaries with this portion of the 
insurgents, as Captain Dirkmann had gathered all his 
strength for the intended attack upon the ducal palace. 

At first, the populace supposed that these Lombards 
were about to unite with them ; but they soon saw their 
mistake. Signor Marco had carefully selected those 
upon whose well-paid fidelity he could rely, while he 
secretly set in motion the elements of revolution. 

His gold, gifts and flattery had made him popular 
with all whom he expected to need ; but why these Lom- 
bards so suddenly appeared in that part of the city 
must be told in another chapter. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE RESCUE OF FLORINA. 

The reader will remember that we left Signor Marco 
with the patricians of his party in the center of the great 
square San Marco. 

Signor Marco, on learning that the people had risen 
in armed and formidable insurrection and sacked the 
palace of his aunt, perceived at once that Fiorina must 
have fallen into the power of the Executioner or have 
sought refuge elsewhere. Anxious no less for the safety 
of his aunt, and having no little experience in warfare, 
he ordered one of the leaders of the Lombard troops 
who had arrayed under his banner to make a circuit of 
the forces of Salbano, passing completely around their 
rear, and create a panic by a rear attack ; at the same 
time using every effort to rescue or learn something of 
Donna Isabella and Fiorina. 

The Lombard leader, having received his orders, 
crossed over a bridge held by the patricians and began 
his circuit. This movement was not unperceived by 
Salbano and his followers ; but they supposed either 
that those foreign troops were deserting the patricians 
to join the people, or to withdraw wholly from the 
expected struggle. 

No opposition, therefore, was attempted ; and the 
Lombards passed on unmolested, until they encountered 
[172] 


The Rescue of Fiorina, 


173 


the advancing flotilla of Sizera and Balthazar on its way 
to reinforce Salbano. 

As the Lombard leader had been ordered to disperse 
all reinforcements, he at once commanded his followers 
to let fly a volley of arrows, darts, and javelins upon the 
head and advanced flanks of the flotilla. 

The mob was not prepared for this sudden and 
unsparing attack. 

Instant and universal confusion became the order of 
the flight. An arrow from a crossbow had pierced the 
cheek of Sizera, and her screams of rage and pain were 
loud above all. Many were killed by the sharp missiles 
which continued to be rained upon the flotilla, and 
scores were wounded. 

All strove to reach the pavements and banks of the 
canal, as there was no chance for escape or resistance 
in the boats. 

Lord Henri, for a moment, attempted to reach the 
gondola of Sebastian, but the wild rush of men from 
boat to boat, as they struggled to reach the banks 
between which the flotilla was jammed, forced him to 
turn all his attention to his own safety. 

He reached the pavement a.id, in the midst of the 
Lombards, who respected his priestly garb and aided 
him to land. 

“ Get thee under shelter, father," said the Lombard 
leader, “ this is no fit place for men of thy garb." 

Lord Henri made no reply but, disregarded by the 
troopers — who continued to ply their arms against the 
populace — cast his eyes about for Sebastian. 

Sebastian had also made his escape to the pavement, 
but on the other side of the canal ; where, cool and 
resolute^ he was urging the people to rally and attack 
the Lombards. 

You have swords, pikes, knives, my friends," cried 


174 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Sebastian — fight ! Why fly and be struck in the back ? 
Charge to close quarters ! At them ! They are but a 
handful. Surround them ! Rush into the houses and 
hurl any and everything upon their heads !” 

His words and courage aroused the people ; and the 
Lombards found themselves severely assailed on every 
side. Their superior weapons and experience struck 
down scores ; but ten seemed to rise where one fell. 
From the windows and balconies of the houses over- 
looking the scene of conflict, missiles of every descrip- 
tion were rained down upon them. Stones, bricks, 
furniture, tables, benches, and everything at hand was 
hurled upon them ; while, having quickly exhausted 
their stock of arrows and darts, they had only their 
pikes, axes, and swords to use against their swarms of 
foes. 

Forgetful of her other dangers as the uproar began, 
and slightly wounded by an arrow which entered the 
pavilion, Fiorina lifted the curtain, and saw with 
unbounded terror the scene of confusion. 

Sizera and Balthazar, who had fled to a safe distance, 
paused in their flight and looked back, at this moment. 
With howls of rage, they saw and recognized the 
maiden as she sprang from the gondola to the nearest 
boat, and from that to the next, in her eagerness to 
leave the scene of strife. 

Silence,” said Sizera. And grasping the arm of 
Balthazar, — “ She is coming this way. Crouch here 
behind this pile of stones. See, she is afraid to make 
for the bank on either side. Ah, she keeps right on. 
Wait ; she is coming on from boat to boat. There she 
is — down ! No ; she is up again, coming straight on in 
the centre of the canal. See, she falls between two 
boats ! So — she is up again. She cannot go much 
further without taking to one side or the other. Good ! 

\ 


The Rescue of Fiorina. 


175 


she will have to land on this side, for the crowd is too 
great on the other. Ah, as I live, Balthazar, there is 
father Rapal on the other side !" 

This was true. Old Rapal, who had been so sum- 
marily struck down by the dagger of Donna Clara, was 
far more frightened than hurt, and had wandered 
about till he got entangled in the mob. 

Fiorina at length sprang upon the narrow pavement, 
and started to fly, where she knew not so she might 
escape from Rapal, whom she had seen making towards 
her. 

In an instant after, while her face was looking back 
at the old man who pursued, she was encircled in the 
exultant embrace of Balthazar, while Sizera clapped 
her bony hands, shrieking in her ear : 

Caught ! Caught at last ! Away with her, Baltha- 
zar ! To our house, where we will speedily make her 
your wife !” 

“ Fortune of France V* thundered the voice of the 
French Ambassador, as he suddenly appeared, turning 
the angle of a house not ten feet from Balthazar and 
his struggling prey, for Fiorina, made desperate by her 
peril, had snatched Balthazar’s dagger from his belt 
and fought fiercely to slay or wound the huge and 
cowardly ruffian. 

** Fortune of France I” shouted the Ambassador, 
rushing with uplifted sword at Balthazar, and closely 
followed by several men-at-arms, all clad in complete 
armor of steel. 

But Balthazar had no heart to retain his grasp upon 
one who struck so fast and sharply as Fiorina. The 
active girl had thrice stabbed him in the face, gashing 
it severely, and Balthazar, perceiving the hostile 
advance of the Ambassador, released Florine and fled. 

Sizera made a dart at the exhausted maiden as she 


The Executioner of Venice. 


1 76 


sank to the ground, but as the sword of the Frank 
whistled about her head, cleanly slicing off one of her 
great ears, she uttered a howl of pain and ran after 
Balthazar. 

Old Rapal, who had scrambled upon the pavement 
from the boats, had rushed forward, stumbled, and 
now lay prostrate, gasping for breath. 

“ Mercy, great duke !” he cried, as the Ambassador’s 
fierce eye fell upon him. Mercy, and I will confess 
all !” 

“Confess ? And who are you ?“ 

“Ah ! I am Rapal Vecci, my lord.” 

“ Rapal Vecci !” exclaimed the Ambassador. “ Here, 
some of you, bind this old villain, and see that he does 
not escape.” 

While his followers were obeying his orders, the 
Ambassador raised Fiorina in his arms, saying : 

“ Are you injured, my child ?” 

“ No, my lord, but exhausted,” replied Fiorina, happy 
to be delivered from Sizera and Balthazar, yet not dar- 
ing to consider her rescuer as a friend. “ My lord, I 
crave your protection ” 

“ You shall have it, maiden. Say no more now, for 
we must seek shelter. Forward !” said the Ambassa- 
dor, moving on. 

Fiorina, as she kept pace with the rapid strides of 
her protector, did not fail to notice that several of his 
attendants were men of lordly air, far superior to the 
rest, yet as they were clad in complete armor, with 
their visors down, nothing of their faces could be seen. 

The Lombards, perceiving this body of armed and 
disciplined men, cut their way along the pavement, until 
they joined it. They had lost many of their number, 
yet ten of the mob had fallen for every Lombard. 

“Close up!” commanded the Ambassador, as they 


The Rescue of Florma. 


177 


crossed a bridge thronged with people. “ Pikes and 
lances to the front !” 

The Lombards yielded ready obedience to one whose 
words and bearing proved him a veteran commander, 
and the populace gave way before the formidable 
advance, though persistently closing up behind it, until 
the palace of the Ambassador was reached. 

Fiorina, glancing at its broad stairs, wide piazzas, and 
airy balconies, recognized it as that which had once 
belonged to the unfortunate Anselmo di Parmetta, but 
afterwards having fallen into the possession of Gaspola, 
it had been sold by him to the Republic for the occu- 
pancy of foreign ambassadors while in Venice. 

She was surprised to see it strongly garrisoned by 
Frank troops, as the haughty Republic never permitted 
foreign ambassadors to retain about them more than a 
score of foreign servitors. 

The Ambassador ordered the Lombards to march into 
the palace, where a post of defence would be assigned 
to them, and then, after a few commands to each of his 
lordly-looking followers, led Fiorina up the broad stairs 
into the palace. 

The shouts of the infuriated and disappointed pop- 
ulace were loud but impotent, for the front, rear and 
sides of the palace bristled with Frankish lances. 

Sebastian, who now entered heart and soul into the 
insurrection, and who had followed, or, rather, led the 
insurgents after the retreating Lombards, assumed all 
the duties and powers of a general of the people. 
Leaving a large force to watch the movements of the 
Franks, he placed himself at the head of his disorderly 
followers and moved rapidly toward the ducal palace to 
swell the hosts of Sabano. 

The Ambassador conducted Fiorina to a large upper 
apartment of the Anselmo Palace, where he was met by 


78 


The Executioner of Venice. 


a lady apparently thirty-five or thirty-six years of age. 
This lady was beautiful in form and feature, though 
her noble countenance was of a melancholy cast, as of 
one who had suffered much sorrow. 

She advanced as the Ambassador led Fiorina forward, 
gazing earnestly upon the lovely face of the maiden. 

“ My sister,'" said the Ambassador, “ this is Fiorina 
Tullosa, and, beyond all doubt, your daughter. Without 
doubt, too, she is restored to your arms fair and pure as 
snow.’" 

“ My child ! — my darling one !” exclaimed the lady, 
embracing and kissing Fiorina in an ecstacy of delight 
— ^kissing her lips, her eyes, her hair, her cheeks, and 
pressing her to her bosom. 

The Ambassador was not a man to be moved to tears, 
yet his lofty and haughty countenance showed that the 
cares and wiles of diplomacy had not bereft him of a 
warm and sympathetic nature. He stood aloof and 
fixed his clear blue eyes upon the scene as if much 
pleased. 

“ My mother ! Ah ! I cannot be so fortunate as to 
be your child, dear lady,’" said the amazed maiden, 
whose heart had flown to meet that of the stranger ; 
“ yet I love you !” 

“ She loves me, Carlo ! Already she loves me !” 
exclaimed the lady, again embracing her. But why 
did you not lead her to me this morning ? It is now 
long past mid-day ” 

“ By our lady !” replied the Ambassador, bluffly, “ we 
are fortunate in being here now. By accident this 
morning the maiden was placed in my care by Count 
Robert, and as I wished to prepare her for this meeting 
with her mother, I deemed it advisable to place her in 
the palace Di Vidulla. I did so, and she was lost to me 
for hours. I returned hither for assistance, as the city 


The Rescue of Fiorina, 


179 


was, and is, in confusion, and then sallied forth again to 
find the maiden. Fortune befriended me — ” 

And have you seen aught of my enemies, my lord ?” 
They are in Venice, and no doubt active in pursuit 
of revenge." 

“ Lord Henri — " 

“ I have seen him, Berthelda.’* 

Lord Henri de Bale ?" asked Fiorina, trembling as 
she recalled the scene in the house of the assassin. 

“ You have seen him ! you know him !" cried Lady 
Berthelda. 

“ You seem to be my friends," began Fiorina. 

But Lady Berthelda stifled her speech with a storm 
of kisses and wild embraces, saying : 

‘‘ Seem to be ! My child, my lost darling, you are 
most precious to me and to your uncle. Yes, I am 
your mother, and this gentleman is your father’s 
brother — friends. We would die for you. But what of 
Henri de Bale, the infamous renegade lord ?" 

“ Indeed, he is most infamous," replied Fiorina, 
trembling. “ I know little of laws of men, and I tremble 
lest I am, as he claims me to be, his wife." 

Great heaven !" exclaimed Lady Berthelda, recoil- 
ing and gazing wildly at Fiorina, — “ the wife of Henri 
de Bale ? how t why ? what mean you ? married to 
him ?" 

Ah, dear lady, I am not to be blamed for what has 
happened, since my lord, the Ambassador, left me at 
the palace Di Vidulla," said Fiorina, bursting into tears 
and sobbing violently. 

Lady Berthelda and the Ambassador exchanged 
glances of grief and terror. Both became very pale, — 
the lady extremely agitated, the gentleman very grave. 

“ You have been in the power of Henri de Bale since 
I left you with Donna Isabella ?” asked the Ambassador, 


I So The Executioner of Venice, 


sternly — so sternly, that Fiorina almost sank to the 
floor. 

The expression upon the faces of her companions 
terrified her. 

‘‘ Yes, my lord, in his power, and that of Fra Bartolo, 
and ” 

“ Fra Bartolo ?” said the Ambassador. Is he, too, in 
Venice ? But explain. Tell me all, unfortunate child, 
all that has happened to you since you left the Vidulla 
palace." 

Fiorina rapidly narrated all that has been told to the 
reader ; and as she concluded, Lady Berthelda again 
embraced her, and said, soothingly : 

“ My poor, helpless child ! To what dangers have 
you been exposed ! What perils you have escaped ! I 
shudder, my darling, as I reflect that but for the sudden 
arrival of that dreadful Sizera and the mob, Henri de 
Bale would have consummated an atrocious crime ! It 
is horrible !" 

“ His head shall pay for his villany," said the Ambas- 
sador, in a deep voice which trembled with rage — pro- 
found, overpowering rage. 

“ Then I am not his wife ? Oh, tell me that I am still 
free !" cried Fiorina 

Your uncle is too powerful to permit Henri de Bale 
to gain possession of you, my daughter," replied Lady 
Berthelda. “ The marriage was a mockery." 

Still, Lady Berthelda covered her face with her hands 
and wept bitterly, while the Ambassador looked very 
dark and grave. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE SPECTER IN THE BARGE. 

We must now take the reader to the cabin of Admiral 
Robert's flag-ship, in the port of Venice. 

The ships of that day, the eighth century, more than 
a thousand years ago, were vastly different from those 
which now float on the ocean. But the Republic of 
Venice was one which derived its power from its prow- 
ess on the sea, and though her fleets were far inferior 
to those of the nineteenth century, her ships were 
strongly built, using both sails and oars, the oars 
worked by regular seamen, or Turkish slaves, or crimi- 
nals. 

The ships, or gallies, as they are often termed, were 
large and frequently sheathed with brass. Thus it was 
with the flagship of the Admiral, it being the largest 
and most powerful craft of all the fleets of the Repub- 
lic, and its sides cased in burnished plates of brass and 
bronze. 

In the spacious cabin of The Cross " was seated 
a lady far past middle age, whose faded yet noble fea- 
tures were such as would never fail to inspire respect. 

She was clad in dark robeS of silk, and wore the cus- 
tomary ornaments of a lady of rank. Near her were 
two maid -servants whose bearing towards her was not 
that of mere hirelings, while seated on an ottoman at 

[i8ij 



i 82 


The Executioner of Venice, 


her feet, was a woman far more aged than her mistress, 
yet with bright eyes and intelligent countenance. 

The hour when we introduce her was soon after 
Admiral Robert had dispatched Captain Gaspardo with 
Signor Anselmo to the ship of the latter officer. 

“ Guilina,” said the lady, you have just returned 
from the deck : saw you anything which might tell us 
what is going on in the city .>’* 

One of the maids replied quickly : 

The fleet of Admiral Chaoza has arrived 

Ah, that I know, Guilina. But did you see any of 
the barges of my son’s ships returning ?” 

‘‘ As I left the deck I saw two barges returning to 
the fleet. Lady Marie. One, some said, was that of 
Captain Seffridi, and the other that of Captain Gas- 
pardo.’* 

“ The ship of the latter lies just beyond us, and the 
barge may pass within hail,” said Lady Marie. Come, 
we will go on deck.” 

Followed by her three attendants, the lady arose and 
left the cabin. They were soon beneath the awning 
which was stretched as a protection from the heat of 
the sun, over the quarter-deck. 

“ It is Captain Gaspardo’s barge,” said Lady Marie, 
as the boat of the latter drew near, and when it was 
within hail, and passing beneath the stern of the flag- 
ship, Lady Marie raised her hand as a signal that she 
desired to speak. 

The barge was checked instantly, while Captain 
Gaspardo arose and saluted the lady with a gesture of 
respect. The barge was scarcely twenty feet from the 
ship, so that the features of all could be plainly seen. 

Signor Anselmo was seated in the stern of the barge, 
but in a reclining position, and over his head and form 
was spread a large flag,, so that at first Lady Marie took 


The Specter in the Barge. 


83 


no notice of him, not so much as supposing that a man 
was beneath the flag. 

“What news from Venice, Captain Gaspardo?” 
asked the lady, anxiously. 

“ Venice is sorely tried to-day, most noble lady. The 
Senate is in confusion — the people in rebellion.” 

“ But the Admiral, my son ?” 

“ I left him well, lady, and striving to restore order in 
Venice.” 

“ Gaspardo, you are too brief in your replies. Has 
the Admiral succeeded in procuring the release of my 
unfortunate husband, Jules de Lorella ?” 

“ It is Marie !” muttered Signor Anselmo, beneath 
the flag. “ It is my dear wife, and she is faithful still !” 

“ Signor Jules has been liberated, my lady.” 

“ Free ! At last ! Thank heaven ! And where 
is he V' 

“The Admiral commanded that Signor Jules should 
be well attended — as he is feeble and sick from his 
long imprisonment, my lady. If I heard aright, lady, 
you will soon see your husband.” 

“ And what a sight will he be for the eyes of so 
loving a wife !” mentally exclaimed Signor Anselmo. 

“ My lady,” whispered the sharp-eyed Guilina, “ I 
verily believe that your ladyship’s noble lord is hidden 
beneath that flag in the stern of the barge. Do you 
not perceive the outline of a human form ?” 

Lady Marie fixed her eyes upon the flag and 
exclaimed : 

“ Gaspardo ! you are deceiving me ! You are hiding 
something from me !” 

“ My lady,” replied Gaspardo, respectfully, “ I must 
obey the orders of my chief.” 

“ Gaspardo !” exclaimed Lady Marie, clasping her 


184 


The Executioner of Venice, 


hands and leaning far over the taffrail, my husband is 
dead ! His body is beneath that flag !” 

“ Lady, he lives ! On my life he lives, and will soon 
be with you. My lady, the Admiral has ordered that 
Signor Jules have change of raiment, refreshment ” 

“ What care I for his raiment. Is he not my beloved 
husband, though in rags. Jules ! My husband ! Speak 
to me ! It is Marie, your Marie, who calls ! Jules, my 
husband !” 

The poor lady seemed mad with excitement, and her 
imploring voice pierced the hearts of all who heard her. 

“ Marie," said the deep voice of Anselmo, as he gave 
his hand to Captain Gaspardo, rose to his feet and shook 
off the heavy folds of the flag, “ behold all that the 
tyrants have left of Jules de Loralla !" 

Lady Marie heard these words, and for an instant 
stared at the ghastly speaker ; then pressing her hands 
upon her breast, she fell lifeless into the arms of Guilina, 
saying ; 

“ Oh God, what tortures must he have endured ! My 
lordly Jules, a wreck — a bearded skeleton !" 

Signor Anselmo could not see her nor hear her mut- 
tered words in the swoon, but he perceived the dread 
silence which had fallen upon all. 

“ Speak, Maria," he said. “ Can love — even yours, 
Marie — survive a sight like this ?" 

“ She does not hear you. Signor," remarked Captain 
Gaspardo. “ The barge has drifted beyond the ship. 
Shall we proceed ?" 

“ It is best," replied Signor Anselmo, sinking down. 

She has seen me as the horrors of the dungeons have 
made me. Do not tell me. Captain, that time and grief 
have ravaged her maiden beauty, for I will not believe 
you. I am blind and my eyes catch no glimmer of 
light, yet in my mind I see my wife as last I saw her. 


The Specter in the Barge. 185 


twenty-six years ago — fair, fresh, young, radiantly beau- 
tiful. Thus she will ever be to me. She cannot fade 
in the eyes of my soul. Alas, did she hope to see me as 
I was, sad mistake 

Twenty-six years had passed since Marie de Loralla 
had seen her husband, and during all that weary 
length of separation she had thought of him, dreamed 
of him only as he was and appeared when he married 
her under the name of Jules de Loralla. 

Ever before her was a tall and faultless form, athletic 
and elegant, with a face whose proud and manly beauty 
had no peer in Venice, no nor in all Italy. 

“ If ever Heaven grants that I shall see him again,” 
had often been the tenor of her thoughts year after 
year, he will be my Jules ; older, sterner, perhaps, but 
erect, with the port of a king, the front of a prince. 
Men like Jules never fade.” 

The fact had shocked her so severely that her heart 
seemed to stand still, while all sense left her lifeless. 

As the barge, urged by its oarsmen, darted away 
towards the ship of Captain Gaspardo, the attendants of 
Lady Marie bore her to a couch in the cabin. 

“ Poor lady,” said the aged woman whom we have 
mentioned, “ the shock was too great for her. Yet I 
have warned her of this, have I not, Guibna ?” 

A thousand and one times, Donna Janetta,” replied 
the maid, as they busied themselves in restoring their 
lady to consciousness. ‘‘ You told her, that time, sick- 
ness, and imprisonment would dreadfully change Signor 
Jules. What a sad blow to a devoted heart ! Ah, she 
will no longer love her husband. She will love Jules de 
Loralla.” 

“ And is he not her husband ? My faith upon it, 
Guilina, good food, rest and attendance will make a fine 
looking man of that specter in the barge. He is not so 


The Executioner of Venice. 


1 86 


very old. Come — he is younger than I, and I am not 
hideous,” quoth Donna Janetta, briskly. “ I know that 
Signor Jules, when we lost him twenty-six years ago 
was not more than twenty-four or five years of age ;- 
come — would he be much over fifty years now ? I am 
fifty-three. I was a buxom dame of twenty-eight or 
nearly when we lost Signor Jules ; aye, I lost some one 
at the same time, almost my husband.” 

“ Ah, you mean that Antonia Delota, of whom you 
tell so many grand stories ?” said Guilina, as she chafed 
the palms of her unconscious mistress. 

“ The same, my lass,” replied Janetta, bathing the 
lady’s brow and temples with scented water. Antonio 
was a worthy man, girls. You never see such men now, 
never. True, he was ten years, perhaps more, older than 
I, but as lively and gay as any gallant of twenty-five. 
He vanished — that is the word, girls — vanished. He 
vanished from the sight of his Janetta, the very night 
that saw Signor Jules fall into the clutches of the ter- 
rible Council. No doubt he is dead, poor fellow ; but 
hush ! our lady revives.” 

Lady Marie opened her eyes and gazed around her 
in surprise, at first ; but memory soon recalled all that 
she had seen. 

“ Ah, is it not terrible, good Janetta ?” she exclaimed 
bursting into tears upon the bosom of that faithful ser- 
vant. 

“ That’s right, my lady. Let sorrow have its vent and 
your heart will be all the lighter, my dear lady,” replied 
Donna Janetta, tearfully. “ It is true that Signor Jules 
looks sadly worn ; but, my dear lady, thank God that 
he lives.” 

“Good Janetta, the shock has passed and leaves my 
heart tenderly attached, firmly knit to him of the barge. 
He is my husband, and I love him as I loved him in his 


The Specter in the Barge, 


187 


youth. Oh, God, I thank thee that he lives. Make 
ready the cabin for the reception of my lord,” said Lady 
Marie, with eager animation. “ He lives, he is free, and 
the love of his wife shall make him young again.” 

Lady Marie did not know that her unfortunate hus- 
band was blind, nor did her attendants, as they laid 
aside her dark robes of mourning and clothed her in 
gayer garb. 

“ He will love me still,” she said, as she glanced at 
her well-preserved beauty, reflected in a large mirror. 
“ I am forty-four years old, Janetta, and the loveliness 
of the bride has long since faded into ” 

“ Oh, my lady,” cried Guilina, as she assisted in the 
toilette, your ladyship knows how proud your son is 
of the beauty of his mother. No handsomer matron of 
your years can be found in Europe. See, your cheeks 
and lips are as fresh as a girl’s ; and I doubt if Donna 
Fiorina, of whom the Admiral has said so much, has a 
more shapely form.’* 

“ My faith !” quoth the lively old Janetta, as she 
flourished around her mistress—” take my word for it, 
that any gentleman who has been locked up for twenty 
years will ” 

“Silence, Janetta !” commanded the lady. ”I am in 
no humor to jest. Rather let me retire to give thanks to 
Heaven for having liberated my poor husband.” 

Lady Marie withdrew from the saloon of the cabin, 
and, entering her sleeping apartment, closed the door. 

Janetta and the maids remained silent until Guilina 
said to the former : 

” Donna Janetta, we have not been long in the ser- 
vice of Lady Marie, pray tell us how it was that she was 
separated from her husband.” 

”Do, Donna Janetta,” whispered the other maid; 


i88 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ and how it was that Lady Marie lost, and afterwards 
found her son, the Admiral." 

Donna Janetta needed little spurring to speak, and, 
after a glance towards the apartment of her mistress, 
spoke rapidly as follows ; 

‘‘You must know that the maiden name of our lady 
was Marie de Clo, and that she was the orphan daughter 
of a noble French family which settled in Venice after 
being banished from France by King Pepin, the father 
of the present great Charlemagne. Her parents died 
in Venice, and our lady was reared by guardians 
appointed by the State. 

“ You know she is beautiful now, but you can not 
imagine how beautiful she was when Signor Jules de 
Loralla wooed and won her." 

“And who was Signor Jules?" asked Guilina. 

“We — for I was a tire-woman of our lady then — we 
believed that he was a young nobleman of Navarre, for 
so he called himself. Certainly, he was noble in air, 
language and deeds, though there was always a kind of 
mystery in his courtship of our lady. They loved mutu- 
ally at first sight, and within a few months after their 
first 'meeting were secretly married." 

“ Secretly married ! And what opposed a public 
marriage ?" asked the inquisitive Guilina. “ Do you 
know ? I object to secret marriages — not that I would 
reject one if the proper man should offer ; still, I prefer 
a public marriage." 

“Pooh !" said Janetta. “ Lovers think very little of 
such things — I mean true lovers, such as Lady Marie 
and Signor Jules were. Besides, the State had decreed 
that, as the guardian of our lady, it had the right to select 
a husband for her, and the State had selected a noble 
named Gaspola di Parmetta. Now, our lady detested 
Gaspola di Parmetta, 


The Specter in the Barge 189 


Oh, indeed. Then I see why a secret marriage was 
necessary. But why did she detest Signor Gaspola, 
who is now a great man in Venice ?” 

“ Simpleton ! A woman, when she is in love with a 
man, detests all other men. Besides, no woman will 
love a man whom she is commanded to love. At all 
events, our lady detested Signor Gaspola, who, however 
— and that was very strange — very much resembled, in 
face and form. Signor Jules. Signor Gaspola had a 

brother Let me see — what was his name ? I have it 

— Anselmo di Parmetta. You see, their family name and 
the name of their immense estate was the same. These 
two brothers, although so young then, had already more 
power than any noble in Venice, though I have heard 
that there was some ill feeling between the brothers 
from the ambitious and avaricious mind of Gaspola. 
Even then people secretly called him ‘ Evil Gaspola,” 
and openly shouted * Good Anselmo.’ ” 

“Which of course added to the ill-feeling,” said 
Guilina. “ But what has Signor Anselmo to do with the 
marriage ?” 

“ Why, the matter was before the Senate for some 
time — so Signor Jules told us — and though neither I 
nor our lady ever saw Signor Anselmo, he urged that 
the choice of a husband should be left to the lady, 
while Gaspola, who loved her, succeeded in getting a 
decree commanding our lady to marry Gaspola di Par- 
metta.” 

“ Did he know that our lady detested him ?” 

“ Of course he did, for he was no simpleton,” said 
Janetta. “ And then, she had told him that she loved 
another. Signor Jules seemed to know all that passed 
in the Senate. Do you know that I often wondered 
how he knew so much ?” 

“Perhaps he had a true friend in the Senate.’* 


190 


The Executioner of Venice. 


Yes, that may be. In fact, he often said that Signor 
Anselmo was his friend, and was perfectly informed of 
all that related to his courtship with our lady. Well, 
the decree of marriage was shown to our lady by the 
officials of the Senate, and she told it to Signor Jules. 
Do you know ? he never changed countenance. I am 
sure he knew all about it before.” 

“No doubt he had a true friend in the Senate Per- 
haps Signor Anselmo.” 

“It may be. We lived a very retired life. At any 
rate, Signor Jules, who was a man of great boldness 
and decision, insisted upon instant and secret marriage.” 

“ In my opinion,” said Guilina. “ Signor Jules was a 
man.” 

“ He was,” replied Janetta, emphatically. “ He was a 
man — a man of nerve. So that night they were mar- 
ried,” 

“ What night ?” 

“The night following the reception of the decree. 
Guilina, you are very dull,” replied Janetta, reproach- 
fully. “ They were married — yes, and I was present, 
and I remember well that they called the young 
priest who married them Fra Bartolo. But they were 
married. Oh, I remember that the favorite attendant 
of Signor Jules was also present — that gallant I have 
told you of — Antonio Delota. For three weeks all went 
well, though Signor Gaspola called every day and urged 
his suit.” 

“ He must have been very angry when he found out,” 
said Guilina. 

“ I can not say that he ever found it out. I only 
know that at a late hour at night, I think about three 
weeks after the marriage, while Signor Jules was seated 
by the side of his bride, a band of armed men burst 
into the apartment, and bound Signor Jules.” 


The Specter in the Barge, 191 


“ What an outrage !” exclaimed Guilina. “ Was 
there no outcry, or anything to declare who did this ?” 

“ Signor Jules was reclining upon a sofa, his head in 
the lap of his wife. He had no time to defend himself. 

He was bound and gagged ” 

Gagged ! Oh heaven !” 

“Yes, gagged in the twinkling of an eye. The 
ruffians wore the badges of the servants of the Council 
of Three, the highest council of Venice. Yet I 
heard ’’ 

“ Then you were present V 

“ Yes ; I was admitted to many of the interviews of 
the lovers before their marriage, and afterwards too. 
So was Antonio. You see, we were a kind of guard, to 
warn them of any approaching intruder.” 

“ Then why did you not warn Signor Jules in time to 
defend himself ?” 

“The fact is,” replied Janetta shaking her head and 
smiling, “ at that moment Antonio and I were fixing 
the day for our marriage.” 

“ Oh ! then, of course you were deaf to all else.” 

“ True ; and though Antonio cut down two of the 
aggressors he, as well as Signor J ules, was immediately 
helplessly bound. Signor Jules, however, uttered a 
cry as he was seized, which has greatly excited my 
mind.” 

“ A cry ? What did he say ?” 

“ Yes ; a cry of rage and wonder. He said : 

“ ‘ This is the work of Gaspola ! Wretch ! does he 
forget that I am his ?’ ” 

“His what ?” asked Guilina, as Janetta hesitated. 

“ How should I know, since I heard no more, for at 
that instant a gag was thrust into his mouth. Both 
Signor Jules and Antonio were carried away, and our 
lady and I were left smitten with amazement. Thus 


The Executioner of Venice. 


192 


we lost Signor Jules and Antonio, and until this hour, 
girls, we have never seen either.” 

“ What mystery ! Still our lady and you were not 
molested ?” 

“ No ; at least for some months afterwards,” replied 
Janetta. “ Signor Gaspola suddenly ceased his visits. 
In fact, we never saw him after we lost Signor Jules. 
Our lady was seized and cast into prison ” 

“ Our lady cast into prison ? and for what ?” 

Who knows ?” replied Janetta, shrugging her shoul- 
ders. “ Venice is a mystery to her people. Her rulers 
do as they please. Our lady, within a week after the 
seizure of Signor Jules, was cast into prison. So was I.” 

“ Oh ! and you too, were thrown into prison ?” 

** Yes ; and the Lord of Heaven knows for what, for I 
don’t,” replied Janetta. ‘‘ At the end of less than a year 
I was liberated, and placed on board of a ship bound for 
Spain. But on the ship I was informed that I was to 
resume my attendance upon our lady.” 

Was she on the ship ?” 

“ Yes, and liberated from prison on the same day. 
We met, we embraced, for our lady always loved me ; 
and she told me that while she was in prison she had 
become a mother.” 

“ Oh Mother of Mercy !” cried Guilina. “ Became a 
mother in a dungeon, a dungeon of Venice ! And was 
her child with her ?” 

“ No. The cruel Senate robbed her of her child. 
She heard the chief of those who entered her prison and 
bore away her child say : 

‘ Haste with it to Sizera !’ ” 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE BATTLE IN THE SQUARE. 

Donna Janetta continued, after a very provocative 
pause : 

“ Our lady and I were banished to a small town in 
Spain, which was sometimes in the possession of the 
Christians, and then in that of the Infidels. We lived 
there several years, in fact, until the Moors carried us 
to the sea, on which we were rescued by Admiral 
Robert. This happened last year. Now let me tell you 
that the resemblance of Admiral Robert to Signor Jules 
de Loralla is very, very remarkable. So remarkable 
that no sooner had our lady seen him, than she actually 
screamed and fainted. 

“ You must not suppose that our lady had made no 
efforts to ascertain the fate of her boy. In time she 
learned that Sizera was the wife of Salbano, and that 
her son was being reared as the son of the Executioner’s 
wife. After inquiries established .the fact that he was 
Lorenzo, so-called son of Sizera and Salbano, the fugi- 
tive boy, and we knew that Lorenzo was the child of 
our lady and Signor Jules, we knew too, for our lady’s 
friends in Venice had not been idle, that Signor Jules 
was a victim of the hate of Gaspola di Parmetta, and 
imprisoned in cell 98 of the ducal prisons.” 

[193! 



194 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ But how did you learn that ?” 

“ From our spies in Venice. Admiral Robert had 
become a man of power and influence, and through the 
aid of a friend of his, Signor Marco, the son of Gaspola, 
he ascertained that Jules de Loralla was still living, an 
occupant of cell 98. A year has passed since our lady 
and the Admiral recognized each other as mother and 
son, and during that year both have labored to free Sig- 
nor Jules.’' 

It was not long before Lady Marie appeared in the 
saloon. She saw by the countenances of her attendants 
that they had been speaking of her, but she made no 
remark thereon. 

“ What means the noise on deck ?” she asked, as she 
came forth from her apartment. “ Go, Guilina, and 
bring me word.” 

Guilina obeyed ; soon returned and said : 

“ The whole fleet is in motion, my lady, the ship of 
Captain Seffridi in advance. It is said that the Admiral 
has commanded the seizure of Chaoza’s fleet, and no 
doubt this is true, as our fleet is using both sail and oar, 
and rushing towards that of Admiral Chaoza.” 

Lady Marie left the cabin and seated herself on deck 
to view the scene. The ships of Chaoza lay at anchor, 
lazily rising and falling on the gentle swell of the port, 
and those of their crews who remained were roused from 
their listless postures by an alarm which suddenly swept 
through each ship. 

“ The fleet of Admiral Robert is bearing down upon 
us with battle flags flying !” became the cry, as men 
rushed about in amazement. Confusion then reigned 
amid the anchored fleet. The wind blew steadily in 
favor of Seffridi, and ere half of the surprised fleet was 
ready for fight or flight it was captured. 

No resistance was made the surprise was complete. 


The Battle in the Square, 


i95 


The greater part of Chaoza’s officers and forces was 
with him in the barges. The iincaptured portion of 
his fleet scattered here and there in utter rout, many 
ships and galleys putting out to sea. 

Chaoza, enraged and impotent to change the fortunes 
of his fleet, ordered his barges to attempt a landing, 
and, drawing his sword, commanded his barge to lead 
the way. 

To his chagrin, he saw his forces hesitate. His barge 
alone had shot forward from the flotilla and passed 
within bowshot of the shore. 

A shout went up from the barges : 

“ Long live Admiral Robert !” 

And Chaoza saw that his forces had revolted, and 
were ready to unite with those of his great rival. 

“All are traitors to Venice,” said Chaoza, bewildered 
by the sudden change of affairs. “ Give way, men, and 
steer for the fleet.” 

But Chaoza soon found his barge surrounded and 
himself a prisoner, by command of Admiral Robert, 
who ordered that he should be placed on board his flag- 
ship, “ The Cross,” in guarded but not close confinement. 

Admiral Robert now led his forces from the quays 
to take part in the conflict which had begun between 
the patrician factions. Signor Marco having ordered his 
Lombards to storm the ducal palace. 

The battle had begun, and was raging furiously 
around the palace when the admiral led his sea-war- 
riors into the great square. He arrived in time to meet 
the advance of Salbano’s masses. 

The Executioner, unable longer to restrain the popu- 
lace, gave the signal to crush the patricians, and the 
variously armed thousands plunged forward. But for 
the timely arrival of the Admiral, the party of Signor 
Marco would have been in great peril from this rear 


196 


The Executioner of Venice. 


attack, while Gaspola was vigorously resisting them in 
front. 

The rush of the mad populace was met by a volley of 
arrov/s which heaped the ground with slain and wounded 
men. 

“ Charge !” roared Salbano, who trusted wholly to 
the weight, and not to the discipline of his host. “ Rush 
in, hand to hand !” 

The Executioner, though sore from his wounds, plied 
a two-handed sword with fatal vigor, and his followers 
were soon in close hand-to-hand combat with the 
veterans of the sea. 

The archers and javelin men of Gaspola rained down 
their missiles upon their enemies below, aiming at 
people, sailors and patricians alike. 

The sailors, accustomed to deadly hand-to-hand con- 
flicts with the fierce Turks, and encouraged by the 
shouts of well-known commanders, gave not an inch to 
the fury of the populace, except where Salbano and 
Sebastian led in person. 

The former with his great sword, and the latter with 
his fatal dagger, steadily made progress, and were closely 
followed by their most formidable comrades. No mercy 
was shown or expected, and the great square was soon 
drenched with blood and covered with dead and dying 
men. 

The mercenaries who had united with the people 
fought in a compact body, until Admiral Robert in 
person attacked the phalanx, knowing that so long as 
this formidable center existed the populace would be 
invincible. 

Venice then, for the first time, saw that of which Aie 
had often heard — the power of Count Robert in 
battle. 

This great leader, though so young in years, grasp- 


The Battle in the Square. 


197 


ing a two-handed battle-axe, leaped against the center 
of the mercenary phalanx, sweeping aside spears, 
swords and lances as if straws, and bursting upon the 
enemy like a demon of carnage. His tall form, power- 
ful frame, and extraordinary activity instantly broke 
through the first rank of the phalanx. 

He was followed by Captain Andrea, who was 
scarcely inferior to his chief, and the second rank of 
the mercenaries was pierced. 

Captain Dirkman, the chief of the insurgent troops, 
who led the third column, threw himself before the 
Admiral, but was dashed headlong to the earth in a 
moment. 

The Admiral, looking only to the shattering of this 
phalanx, rushed upon the third column, being ably sup- 
ported by Andrea, and a few veteran seamen. 

The phalanx wavered, became confused, and then 
gave way to become irretrievably mingled with the 
populace. 

Having broken the phalanx, the Admiral turned his 
attention to the Executioner and Sebastian, who had 
penetrated far into the ranks of the seamen and even 
reached the rear of Signor Marco’s forces. 

“ By my life !” cried Gaspola, who overlooked the 
scene from a balcony, “ Salbano fights well, and has 
reached the rear line of the traitor patricians.” 

“ Aye, Signor,” replied a patrician at his side, “ but 
yon Admiral has crushed the mercenary phalanx and 
will now fall upon the populace.” 

“ Let them fight, friend, let them fight,” said Gaspola. 
“ The palace cannot be taken. It is as impregnable as 
our armor of proof against the arrows of those Genoese 
archers who seem to make a butt of me for their shafts.” 

Gaspola’s armor rang with the shock of arrows as 
they struck his crest and gorget ; but knowing that his 


iq8 


The Executioner of Venice. 


coat of mail was impenetrable at that distance, he gave 
little heed to these proofs of the aim of his enemies. 

His words seemed about to come true, for his enemies 
were plainly weakening each other, while from the 
strength of the palace and its well-appointed garrison, 
its defence was easily maintained. 

“ My lord duke,” said an officer who suddenly 
appeared upon the balcony, “ is it known to your High- 
ness that Admiral Robert has stormed the prisons and 
liberated all its inmates ?” 

“All? did you say all? How learned you this?” 
demanded Gaspola. 

“From the head-jailer of the ducal prison, my lord, 
who managed to enter the palace.” 

“ Where is he ? Lead him hither,” commanded 
Gaspola. 

The jailer was soon in the presence of the patrician, 
and trembled as Gaspola fixed his eyes upon him. 

“ You bring news from the prison ? Speak fast, for 
our presence may soon be needed below.” 

“ My lord. Admiral Robert stormed the prisons, over- 
powered the garrison, and liberated all.” 

“ All ? him of cell 98 ?” 

“ ’Tis true ; and he claimed ‘ 98 ’ as his father.” 

“ Villain ! were you not commanded to let no man 
behold ‘ 98 ’ alive ?” demanded Gaspola, in a terrible 
voice. 

“We were surprised. The attack was too sudden, 
and the order of the Council commanded that ‘ 98 ’ 
should not be put to death until the last moment.” 

“ Did he speak his name ?” 

“Yes, my lord : Ansel ” began the jailer, about to 

give the full name of the unfortunate prisoner. 

But his life was ended instantly, even as the name 


The Battle in the Square. 


199 


was upon his tongue ; for an arrow from the archers 
below pierced his brain, and he fell headlong — dead. 

‘‘ Order a score of cross-bow men to vex that body of 
Genoese,” said Gaspola to an officer. “ What now ?” he 
added, as a soldier presented himself, with a face full 
of alarm. 

“ My lord, the sailors and forces of Admiral Chaoza 
have revolted in favor of Admiral Robert, and Admiral 
Chaoza is a captive. 

So ? I thought the forces of the traitor were sud- 
denly increased,” replied Gaspola, with a dark look 
towards the square upon which the battle raged fiercely. 
“ Hangout a flag of truce.” 

“ What ? to yield ?” exclaimed several voices — the 
voices of patricians, who knew they could hope for 
little mercy from the faction of Signor Marco. 

“Yield! Am I a man to yield ?” replied Gaspola, 
scornfully. No ; I wish to parley with Salbano and his 
rabble.” 

The white flag which soon after floated from the 
balcony was not regarded by the Executioner except 
with sneers, though the faction of Signor Marco fell 
back from the strife at the command of their chief, who 
for a moment supposed Gaspola wished to parley with 
him. 

Perceiving this, Salbano called out : 

“ Forward, my friends ! Trust not any patrician. 
They are all wolves and foxes. Ah, Gaspola di Par- 
metta, I know you well. At them, comrades ! Down 
with these in the square, and then we will attend to 
those in the palace !” 

The battle was immediately renewed with fresh fury, 
but Signor Marco and his forces no longer attempted 
to effect an entrance into the ducal palace. By the 


200 


The Executioner of Venice. 


advice of Admiral Robert, their strength was joined to 
his, and all assailed the populace. 

Under this fresh assault the mob was beaten back at 
every point, until the great square was cleared, and 
Salbano withdrew his forces to another part of the 
city, where, seizing a large palace, he prepared his host 
for renewed battle on the morrow. 

When the sun went down more than two-thirds of 
the great city was held by the mob. During the day, 
while the battle raged around the ducal palace, the 
French Ambassador had sent out protecting parties 
which rapidly gathered all patrician families within the 
Anselmo palace. 

“It is not for the ambassador of France,” he said, “to 
meddle with the intestine broils of Venice. Let the 
patricians fight it out. But it is my duty as a man to 
give protection to women and children against whom 
the rage of the mob will be turned if the battle goes 
against Salbano — as I am very sure it will. If the pat- 
ricians desire my aid against the people, let them ask 
for it.” 

Thus by night the Anselmo palace was thronged with 
noble ladies and their families. A line of communi- 
cation was guarded between the great square and the 
Anselmo palace, and the greatest eagerness was shown 
by the patricians besieged to learn the fate of their 
families. 

A truce between the factions was agreed upon, as it 
became evident that further strife would place them 
at the mercy of the populace or wholly at the command 
of Admiral Robert, whose great popularity had alarmed 
Signor Marco, there being many who hinted that as the 
daring and skill of the Admiral had saved the rebellious 
patricians from Gaspola and also from the insurgents, 
he should be made Dictator of the Republic. 


JV/io the Avibassador Was. 


201 


The mind of the Admiral, however, was not occupied 
with ambitious thoughts. He longed to be with his 
father, to behold him in the presence of his mother. 
He had learned that Fiorina was safe in the care of his 
friend the ambassador, and though he desired greatly to 
greet her, his duties and the dangers of the hour 
demanded his presence near the ducal palace. 

While the weary patricians rested, awaiting the result 
of a conference of their leaders. Signor Marco found an 
opportunity to visit the Anselnio palace. 

“ I wish to see his Excellency the Ambassador,” he 
said, when halted by the strong and vigilant guard of 
the palace. 

He was conducted to the audience-chamber of 
D’Abrette, whom he found alone arid in an attitude of 
profound meditation. 

The Frarik seemed surprised by the visit of the Vene- 
tian, but bowed gravely and awaited his remarks. 


♦ 

CHAPTER XIX. 

WHO THE AMBASSADOR WAS. 

Signor Marco thought the bearing of the Ambassador 
somewhat haughty for a mere emissary of a foreign 
power, and he assumed a lofty air as he said : 

“ Sir Ambassador, am I to sit or stand in your pres- 
ence ?” 

“ Pardon, Signor Marco,” exclaimed the minister, 
rising. “My mind was sadly pre-occupied, not to 
recognize that I was honored with the presence of one 
of the three Doges of Venice.” 


202 


The Exectitionci' of Venice. 


The irony in the tone of the speaker did not escape 
Signor Marco, and he replied : 

“ I am the Doge of Venice, Sir Ambassador.” 

“ To-morrow may tell a different story. Signor. Gas- 
pola may establish his claims, or even that ruffian 
Salbano, or perhaps. Admiral Robert.” 

“ Admiral Robert does not aspire to be Prince of 
Venice, nor by the laws of Venice can he be, since he 
is not of noble birth. But it is not to speak of the 
Admiral that I am here. I desire the aid of the Frank 
troops to put down, first the people, and then the 
tyrants of Venice. I desire also an interview with 
Donna Fiorina, and , a conversation concerning her 
with you.” 

“ Without the express command of the Emperor 
Charlemagne,” replied D’Abrette, “ I dare not use my 
troops, except for defence of the honor of France.” 

“ Pardon me,” said Scgnor Marco. “ I think he whom 
I address dares do as he pleases.” 

The Ambassador started slightly, and gazed earn- 
estly at the ambitious noble. 

“You have dared secretly to introduce fully five hun- 
dred armed Franks into Venice,” continued Signor 
Marco, gravely. “ It is true that the State is in con- 
fusion, yet you must know that upon the restoration of 
ordei', no matter who may be established as Doge, the 
dignity of the State will demand an explanation. 
Should you render the patricians a service with your 
troops, their thanks will be due.” 

“ I will think of the matter, speedly. Signor. But 
you wish to see Donna Fiorina. To that I do not 
object, at least in my presence. Remember that I do 
not desire to hear what you may say to her, but I must 
be present during the interview.” 

“ As your Excellency pleases. You may hear, too, 


IV/io the Ambassador Was. 


203 


what I wish to say to her. I simply desire that what I 
say to her, may be known to her and you alone. I have 
come to offer her my hand in honorable marriage.” 

“ Ah !” said the Ambassador, starting quickly. “ It 
is very strange that a noble, and, perhaps, one who may 
be established as Prince of Venice, should wish to marry 
a nameless girl, without fortune — a girl for years known 
only as the adopted daughter of the headsman.” 

“ That does not concern any one except myself.” 

“ Admiral Robert may think otherwise, signor.” 

“ Then you, who assert a claim to protect the maiden, 
favor the suit of Admiral Robert ?” 

“ I do not know that Admiral Robert desires to wed 
Donna Fiorina. I believe that he loves her. I think 
that you, this morning, made the same discovery, and 
said that it ended your hopes — that you voluntarily 
resigned them.” 

“ Sieur D’Abrette,” said Signor Marco, gravely, let 
us be plain with each other. For a long time I have 
suspected that Donna Fiorina is of noble birth. I 
meant to woo her and wed her, if my suspicions proved 
true.” 

“ Then they have proved true .?” 

“ To my mind, yes. Were I speaking not to Sieur 
D’Abrette, but to his master, the Emperor, I would say : 
‘ I am Marco, Doge of Venice, and I desire the consent 
of your majesty to wed Fiorina Tullosa, claimed by the 
Ambassador of your grace as a French subject. In 
return for that consent, Venice will become the firm 
ally of France against Spain, Navarre, Bavaria and 
Lombardy.’ No doubt the consent of the Emperor 
would be obtained.” 

The Ambassador seemed disturbed by this speech of 
Signor Marco, and his eyes flashed with a rapid thought, 
while his features became very grave. 


204 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ Signor Marco,” he said at length, ‘‘ before I reply 
for the Emperor, whose authority is vested in my 
person in Venice, tell me, plainly, whom do you sup- 
pose Donna Fiorina to be ?” 

“ The daughter of Prince Carloman, and niece of his 
majesty, the Emperor Charlemagne.” 

“ And who am I ?” 

“ His Imperial Majesty, Charlemagne, Emperor of 
the Franks and King of the Lombards,” replied Signor 
Marco, bowing low, but with the air of a sovereign 
prince. 

“ So you have penetrated my disguise'” exclaimed the 
Emperor, for the pretended Ambassador was indeed 
the famous Charlemagne. 

“Sire,” replied the Venetian, “one of my emissaries 
arrived from France to-day, and confirmed what 1 had 
heard before. That the Emperor in person was to visit 
Venice to seek for the lost daughter of his deceased 
brother. Prince Carloman. But for the anxieties of the 
intended revolution, your grace would never have intro- 
duced six of your dukes, three of your counts, and 
several inferior nobles of 3 ^our court, besides five hun- 
dred men-at-arms, into Venice.” 

“ Does Signor Gaspola know who I am ?” 

“ He suspects ; and doubtless ere morning you will 
receive a deputation from him, asking your aid, and 
offering alliance. But Signor Gaspola cannot be 
trusted.” 

“What better can the son offer !” 

“ If the son becomes a member of the imperial family, 
will not his own interests demand fidelity to the 
Emperor.” 

“ Signor Marco, it is true that the Princess Fiorina is 
heiress of great wealth in France, and those estates are 
iinder the guardianship of the Emperor. But by the 


TV/io the Ambassador Was, 


205 


laws of Venice no Venetian can own property beyond 
the Republic of Venice. Were she to become your wife 
you could possess her wealth only by selling those 
estates, and investing the proceeds in Venetian prop- 
erty. This the Emperor will not permit. The Princess 
of the blood royal, to possess French estates, must dwell 
in France. An ample dowry you may expect, if she 
consents to accept your hand.” 

If she consents ! Then your grace leaves the decis- 
ion to her ?” 

“ I do. I shall not force one whose life thus far has 
been slavery, to wed one whom she may dislike, and 
one who does not love her for herself, but for her wealth 
and high family.” 

“ Such reasoning has not always governed the decis- 
ions of the Emperor of the Franks,” said Signor Marco, 
bitterly. 

“ That is true. It pleases me to be so governed in 
this case,” replied the monarch, haughtily. 

“ And were she to say that she desires to wed Admiral 
Robert?’ 

“ I would refuse ; for though the Admiral is noble in 
deeds and character, he does not know anything of his 
origin.” 

“ In that we may be mistaken,” said Signor Marco. 
“ I heard to-day that there is a lady on board his flag- 
ship, called Lady Marie de Larolla, who is said to be 
his mother.” 

“ Larolla ? I do not know the name. What was her 
maiden name ?” 

Signor Marco referred to an ivory tablet, and replied ; 

“ Marie de Clo.” 

' “ De Clo !” exclaimed the Emperor. “ Can it be that 
Admiral Robert is descended from the noble Duke de 
Clo, who was banished from France by my father ?” 


2o6 


The Executioner of Venice. 


“ Perhaps ; but who was the father of Admiral 
Robert ?” said Signor Marco. 

At that moment the usher of the audience -chamber 
announced : 

“ Admiral Robert di Parmetta, and his Highness 
Prince Anselmo di Parmetta, Doge of Venice." 

“ Ho ! another doge !" said the Emperor, smiling, 
while Signor Marco seemed greatly disturbed in coun 
tenance. 

Into the chamber entered, first, Admiral Robert, 
leading his blind father by the hand, and followed by 
several of the noblest patricians of Venice, belonging to 
each of the factions which had fought so fiercely against 
each other all that day. 

“Your Grace," said the Admiral, saluting the 
Emperor as became his rank, “ I present to you my 
father, Anselmo di Parmetta, for years supposed to be 
dead, and now, by almost unanimous voice of the 
patricians of Venice, Doge of the Republic." 

“ How is this ? What means this ?" cried Signor 
Marco, as he stared at the liberated noble, who was 
now clad in costly robes, and wonderfully improved in 
appearance. His white hair and beard had been 
trimmed, and though his frame and features were fear- 
fully emaciated, the innate dignity and nobleness of the 
man were conspicuous. 

“ What means this T cried Signor Marco, advancing 
towards the Admiral. “ Have you deserted my cause ?" 

Gently, my cousin, for so it seems you are," replied 
the latter, calmly. “ The factions of Gaspola and 
Marco, wearied in being the mere tools of rival father 
and son, have united ; and ignoring the claims of both 
have elected Anselmo di Parmetta, Doge of Venice." 

“ By whom was this settlement brought about ?" 
demanded Signor Marco, 


IV/io the A7nbassador Was. 


207 


“ By the patriotism and courage of my noble son, the 
Admiral,” replied the Doge. “ Young man, I hear your 
voice, but the cruelty of your father has deprived me 
of the power to see you. I am your uncle as well as 
your prince. I have learned that you are exceedingly 
ambitious, and though I cannot reproach you for wish- 
ing to change the government of Venice — for it had 
fallen into the hands of unscrupulous tyrants — I do 
rebuke you for the motives which led you to plan a 
revolution. To have attained your purpose you must 
have slain your own father, or have doomed him to the 
dungeons from which God has liberated me. A gen- 
eral amnesty has been proclaimed to all the people of 
Venice, base and noble. Even with Gaspola we have 
been most merciful, having sentenced him to life exile 
only, nor stripped him of that wealth which he inher- 
ited from our father. We desire peace and prosperity 
in the State. Nephew Marco, you are able and influ- 
ential, will you be with us or against us ?” 

The ambitious and chagrined patrician glanced at 
the array of well-known faces, and recognized Admiral 
Chaoza, his cousin. 

“ Do you, Chaoza, declare for this noble, who has so 
suddenly appeared, and who claims to be our uncle. 
Have you deserted the cause of Gaspola ?” 

“ Cousin Marco,” replied Chaoza, calmly, “ I have 
heard from the lips of our blind uncle the treatment 
he received from my uncle, Gaspola, I was a witness to 
the meeting of Signor Anselmo with his wife, after a 
separation of twenty-six years. What I saw and heard 
has made me detest the very name of Gaspola. Hence- 
forth I am the friend of our uncle Anselmo, and no 
longer the enemy and rival of our cousin. Admiral 
Robert.” 

“ So say we all ! Long live the Doge Anselmo di 


2o8 


The ExectUiotm^ of Veiiicc. 


Parnietta !” exclaimed the assemblage of patricians, 
among whom Signor Marco recognized many of his 
late most devoted adherents. 

The shout was taken up by all within hearing ; it 
travelled on even to the ducal palace, where it was 
repeated by the patricians in assembly there, and by 
the force of the fleets. 

“ I have not sought this dignity said the blind Doge, 
as he leaned upon the arm of his son. It has been 
pressed upon me by those who knew me in my youth, 
and by their sons who have heard of my good name. 
The State needs peace and reformation. Speak, nephew 
Marco — are you with me or against me ?” 

“ I must perforce yield,” replied Signor Marco. 

“ Then kneel and swear faithful allegiance — not to 
me as your uncle, but to Anselmo, Doge of Venice.” 

With careless grace the baffled politicians complied, 
yet his face was very pale and his speech tremulous. 

He arose from his posture of homage and retired 
apart. 

The Doge then addressed the Emperor, saying : 

“ My son has informed me that he who calls himself 
the Sieur D’Abrette, and Ambassador of France, is no 
less a personage than Charlemagne, Emperor of the 
Franks. Is it so ?” 

“ It is true, my lord,” replied the Emperor, as several 
disguised nobles entered the audience-chamber and 
ranged themselves about him. 

“ The Emperor has violated the terms of his treaty 
with the Republic,” said the Doge, gravely ; “ but we 
will not speak of that now, for Venice may owe her 
salvation to that violation. As Prince of Venice, I am 
chief of all troops in her limits, foreign, mercenary or 
native. It is not for the Venetians to ask the aid of 
those their laws commanded. A message has been 


JV/io the Ambassador Was. 


209 


sent to Salbano and Sebastian, the chief leaders of the 
insurrection, offering pardon to all who will lay down 
their arms, and make restoration of plundered property. 
If the terms are rejected, there will be hot work on the 
morrow, for peace must be restored as speedily as pos- 
sible. The troops of your grace will be expected to aid 
the constituted authorities of Venice.” 

“ The troops shall be forthcoming. Prince. It is just,” 
replied the Emperor. 

“ My son has something to say to your grace in a 
matter in which he is deeply interested,” continued the 
Doge. “ He desires that the interview may be private.” 

With these words the Prince signified his desire to 
depart. The Admiral was soon alone with the Em- 
peror, who no sooner saw that they were alone than he 
threw his arms around the neck of the Admiral and 
warmly embraced him, saying : 

“ My heart is delighted, Count Robert, in your for- 
tune. You saved my life last year in Rome, and I am 
not ungrateful. You are fortunate in having at length 

cleared away the slur upon your birth Wait, I know 

what you would say. She is well. We will visit her 
presently. There is no reason now why you should 
not wed her.” 

“ My father may not consent to my marriage with a 
nameless maiden.” 

“ Hi ! the mad lover has no suspicion of the truth !” 
exclaimed Charlemagne, laughing. “ That nameless 
girl is Princess Fiorina, daughter of Carloman, the 
deceased brother of Emperor Charlemagne. Name- 
less ! ” 

The amazed Admiral, who had loved Fiorina for her 
beauty of person and purity of character alone, could 
only gaze upon the laughing Emperor in speechless 
surprise. 


210 


The Executioner of Venice, 


“ It is true, my friend. She is my beloved niece, for 
many years supposed to be dead. Heard you ever of 
one Signor Ludovico del Oro ?” 

“ Yes, your grace ; he was a patrician of Venice. He 
perished to-day, and ’tis reported by the hand of a 
woman. His head is now upon a spear before the 
palace occupied by Salbano." 

^ He did not die by the hand of a woman, though 
he who stabbed Signor Ludovico as he clung to the 
gondola wore a woman’s garb and called himself Donna 
Clara. He was slain by Henri de Bale, who, calling 
himself Donna Clara, claimed to be the mother of the 
princess. But you are uninformed of much that has 
happened since you /last saw the princess. Of her 
origin you know nothing beyond what I have said. 
Why, man,” said the bluff Emperor of the Franks, 

Henri de Bale claims to be the husband of the prin- 
cess.” 

“ Claims to be the husband of Fiorina,” cried the 
Admiral. 

“ No less. He was married to her to-day, in the 
house of Sebastian the assassin, by a renegade friar 
called Fra Bartolo.” 

The Admiral staggered back on hearing these words. 
He had never heard of Henri de Bale, and to hear that 
his beloved Fiorina was a wedded wife of any man 
struck him speechless. 

“Come, I am cruel,” said the Emperor. “The mar- 
riage was a mockery, and the princess was rescued from 
Henri de Bale before the plots of the villain were made 
a success.” 

“ But he lives ! This villain De Bale lives !” exclaimed 
the Admiral, fiercely. 

“ Ay, he is now in Venice. But he is powerless. Le 


Who the Amdassador Was. 


21 1 


me briefly tell you why Henri de Bale plotted to wed 
Fiorina.” 

“ She is well, unharmed your grace ?” 

“ Be calm, my son. She is with her mother. Many 
years ago this Henri de Bale, once a duke of France, 
was a suitor for the hand of Lady Berthelda, then 
betrothed to my brother. Prince Carloman. She scorned 
his suit and he vowed revenge. Soon after the birth of 
Fiorina, her father — Carloman — died, and ere the infant 
was a year old she disappeared.” 

“ Disappeared !” 

“ Yes — stolen by the emissaries of Henri de Bale, 
though not until a few months ago was his agency in 
the matter suspected. The child was brought to Venice 
by Henri de Bale himself, disguised as a woman — a 
disguise he can assume perfectly, for he is totally beard- 
less, effeminate in form, voice and feature. He con- 
fided the care of the child to Rapal Vecci, then Execu- 
tioner of Venice ” 

“ Oh, then Fiorina is the little girl whom I remember 
to have seen in the house of Salbano a few weeks before 
his cruelty and my aspirations led me to fly from 
Venice ?” exclaimed the Admiral. 

“ The same — so says Rapal, who is now my prisoner, 
and who has confessed to all that he knows,” replied the 
Emperor. “ The agent of De Bale in Venice, who knew 
the origin of the child, was Signor Ludovico del Oro, 
the one slain to-day. For keeping the secret, and being 
the ally of De Bale, Ludovico demanded great rewards, 
and in time they quarrelled, as De Bale, being banished 
from France, became unable to meet the greedy 
demands of his Venetian accomplice. 

“ At length Ludovico learned that De Bale, fired by 
the increasing beauty of Fiorina as she grew to woman- 
hood, and eager to gain a title to her estates in Bavaria, 


212 


The Executioner of Venice, 


intended to make her his wife. Thus his revenge would 
prove great gain. 

“ But Ludovico, believing that he might obtain great 
reward from the bereaved mother, Lady Berthelda, 
informed her secretly of the existence of her long-lost 
daughter — of course. Lady Berthelda placed the matter 
in my hands, and I resolved to conduct the affair in 
person, and as an ambassador of my own. court. 

“ It appears that Ludovico has recently sold his secret 
to Signor Marco, who, but for my presence in Venice, 
would now possess Fiorina.’' 

“Ah, then he was playing traitor to his friend,” said 
the Admiral. 

“ That is past now, and all his schemes of ambition 
are empty air,” replied the Emperor. “ This ro5^al 
daughter of France is now under my care. Of her mar- 
riage with the villain De Bale you shall learn from her 
own lips. Let us go to her.” 

“ With all my heart and soul,” exclaimed the delighted 
lover, as the Emperor arose. “ Y our majesty does not 
refuse to sanction my suit ?” 

“ I fear it would matter very little if I opposed it,” 
replied the Emperor, with a smile. “ We are in Venice 
and Admiral Robert, who has just made a Doge, might 
readily unmake a rash Emperor. Your proud nobles 
looked rather darkly upon me but now.” 

“ Sire,” said the Admiral, “ so long as I have influence 
in Venice it shall not be wanting if needed by the uncle 
of Fiorina. Venice is jealous ” 

“Ay, and vindictively so,” interrupted the Emperor. 
“But the present Doge seems a wise and generous 
prince, and perhaps Charlemagne is as safe in Venice 
as in France.” 

They now left the audience-chamber to visit Fiorina, 


The Midnight Pursuit. 


213 


but on their way were met by Lady Berthelda, who 
exclaimed wildly : 

“ She has disappeared ! Treason, my liege ! My 
child is lost again.” 

“Lost again !” cried the Emperor, amazed. 

“ Lost ! Abducted ! Haste to her apartment and see 
for yourself,” replied Lady Berthelda, in great agita- 
tion, and hurried away, followed hastily by the 
astonished Emperor and Admiral. 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE MIDNIGHT PURSUIT. 

The apartment which had been appropriated to 
Princess Fiorina was in one of the wings of the Anselmo 
palace, and as she was greatly fatigued by the excit- 
ing scenes through which she had passed. Lady Ber- 
thelda had ordered that she should rest. 

Fiorina sank into a profound slumber, with her 
mother sitting by her couch. But as night came on the 
care of seeing to the comfort and disposal of the numer- 
ous patrician families which had sought refuge in the 
great palace demanded the presence of Lady Berthelda 
elsewhere. 

Thus Fiorina was left alone in her apartment. That 
part of the palace was filled with the clamor of female 
servants, the cries of children and the general confusion 
attendant upon the crowd of terrified ladies endeavoring 
to make arrangements for the night. 

Lady Bertha had closed and locked the door of 


214 


The Executioner of Venice, 


Fiorina’s apartment, unwilling that her repose should 
be disturbed, and intending to visit her at short inter- 
vals. 

The night had advanced several hours before Lady 
Berthelda, who in the meantime had thrice looked in 
upon the sleeping princess, had completed her arrange- 
ments for her involuntary guests, and returned to seek 
repose in Fiorina’s apartment. 

To her amazement the princess had disappeared, and 
we have seen how she informed her brother, the 
Emperor. 

The latter, with the Admiral, carefully examined the 
room. As Lady Berthelda asserted that on her return 
she found the door as she had left it, locked on the out- 
side, it was plain that the princess must have left the 
room by means of the balcony which overlooked the 
canal below, and it was not to be supposed that she had 
departed of her own free will. 

The distance between the balcony and the canal was 
scarcely twelve feet, and on the opposite side of the 
canal, which was there fully fifty yards wide, sentinels 
were continually passing and repassing. 

A rope ladder hanging from the balcony, however, 
was plain proof that some one had scaled the balcony, 
seized the sleeping lady and carried her off, aided by 
the intense darkness of the night, the many noises of 
the hour, and the inability of the princess to cry for 
help. 

“ It is very plain,” remarked the Admiral. “ In the 
darkness and confusion a gondola was silently guided 
beneath the balcony, the rope ladder was tossed up b}; 
a strong and skilful hand, its hooks caught upon the 
edge of the balcony, the abductor climbed up, surprised 
and gagged the princess, and returned with her to the 
^'ondola — then glided away unheeded in the darkness.” 


The Midnight Purs^lit. 


215 


“ The brain of Henri de Bale conceived and directed 
the deed,” replied the Emperor. “ Unfortunate child 
of sorrow ! may God help thee this night !” 

Within a few minutes after, scores of gondolas were 
gliding through the various canals of the city seeking 
tidings of the lost princess. 

Meanwhile Fiorina was in the power of Henri de Bale, 
whose acts we must now narrate. The reader w'll 
remember that we left him as he disappeared into a 
house while the Lombards of Signor Marco were con^ 
tending with the populace. 

Lord Henri witnessed the rescue of Fiorina by the 
Emperor, and followed at a safe distance until he saw 
them enter the Anselmo palace. He withdrew and 
soon after entered the palace in woman’s garb, being 
supposed to be one of the many females seeking its pro- 
tection. He remained several hours in the palace, spy- 
ing and noticing until he learned that the princess slept 
in the apartment we have described. He adroitly 
learned that it was the intention of Lady Berthelda to 
leave Fiorina undisturbed in her repose, and having 
surveyed the balcony from the outside, left the palace 
to confer with Sebastian. 

He readily found him at the headquarters of Salbano, 
which he entered in the dress of an artizan. Beckon- 
ing the Assassin aside he whispered : 

“ I have work for you, immediate work, Sebastian.” 

“ Ay, work enough, no doubt, my lord. But Salbano 
will give us all work enough to-morrow. Here has 
been a herald from the patricians offering general par- 
don if the people will disperse to their homes. But Sal- 
bano, being big with his success, and confident in his 
strength, has rejected the amnesty, declaring that 
twenty-four of the patricians, whom he named, must 
lose their heads, the people to be supreme, the estates 


2i6 


The Executioim' of Venice, 


of all the nobles to be confiscated to the people, and him- 
self Dictator and Doge of Venice.” 

. “ Salbano is a fool ” 

“ Best not speak so loud, my lord, for his eyes are 
upon us and no lynx hath a keener ear.” 

I say that he is a fool, and yet he may have his way 
for a time if I might venture to become his ally and 
adviser. He does not intend to attack the patricians 
to-morrow ?” 

“ Ay, or sooner.” 

“ He will fail. The patricians are fresh in their sud- 
den reconciliation, the forces of the fleet are loyal to 
their leaders, and there is one in the Anselmo palace 
whose very presence is a host.” 

Lord Henri spoke these last words purposely 
loud that Salbano might hear, and the Executioner 
commanded him to stand forth. 

“ Who are you ? A spy ? Your name and business 
in our presence ?” * 

Salbano assumed all the pomp of a king, having 
installed himself upon a kind of throne, with a robe of 
scarlet velvet laced with gold upon his shoulders, a 
“ horned bonnet” upon his head, and a drawn sword in 
his hands. 

A row of well-armed mercenary soldiers was behind 
him, and about him were many upon whom he had 
conferred important commands. 

These latter were the fiercest and most influential of 
the populace, each craft except that of the butchers 
being represented. Not one of that trade could be 
found when the Executioner distributed his titles and 
offices. 

“ Stand forth and declare yourself,” he said, as his 
fierce eyes glared suspiciously at Lord Henri. “ Speak 
freel}^ as we have no secrets here.” 


The Midnight Pursuit. 


2 I 7 


It far better suited the policy of Lord Henri to con- 
verse in secret with the ruffian leader, but the latter 
wished to prove that he believed his power invincible, 
and to Lord Henri’s request for communication apart, 
replied : 

“ No whispers for us. All before the people. We 
are not .snakes to hiss treason in corners. We are lions 
to roar in battle. Who are you ? No worker in brass, 
though you wear the garb.” 

“ I am Henri de Bale,” replied the noble, calmly, 

and the friend of Salbano, the Doge of the people.” 

The Executioner half arose from his throne as he 
heard this name, the name of the man who had placed 
Fiorina in the care of Rapal. He stared at him for an 
instant and then growled sullenly : 

“ This is no place for men who call themselves lords, 
unless they desire to lose their heads. Why are you 
here .?” 

“ To befriend Salbano and the people -” 

“Stay, man. I think your business in Venice looks 
towards regaining possession of a certain runaway 
maiden. Come, we are master here.” 

“ You are master now, but a few hours of rashness 
may ruin you. Do you not know that Charlemagne, the 
Emperor of the Franks, is in the Anselmo palace with 
a strong force and several of his most famous leaders ?” 

“That he was in Venice I learned this morning, for I 
saw him on the canals. What of that? He may wish 
himself in Paris ere long.” 

“ You underrate the strength of the patricians. 
Defer your intended attack for a few days, act wholly 
on the defensive, and I pledge my word that your 
strength will be greatly increased.” 

“ By whom ? All Venice is with me.” 

“ By Bavarian troops, by Lombards and others who 


The Executioner of Venice. 


I: 1 8 


follow the banner of Henri de Bale,” replied the noble. 
“They are now moving towards Venice, by my com- 
mand, and within three days will be here.” 

“ Then what T* demanded the Executioner, suspi- 
ciously. 

“ They will aid you to destroy the patricians. I have 
already dispatched a messenger to hurry them towards 
Venice.” 

“ Look you, Henri de Bale, you did not dispatch that 
courier until the maiden we spoke of had fallen into the 
protection of the Emperor. It is to regain her that 
you send for your Bavarians, who are already too far 
from Bavaria for the welfare of Venice. Your troops 
are plundering bands of hirelings ; and if once well in 
Venice, woe to her citizens. The people ask no aid to 
crush their tyrants. As for the maiden, we will rescue 
her by force of arms, and wed her to our son, Baltha- 
zar. Silence, Henri de Bale ! We need neither your 
aid nor your advice. Get you from Venice speedily, 
and thank your patron saint that we spare your head. 
Take charge of him. Signor Sebastian, and see that he 
be conveyed to the limits of the city. Away with him. 
The people of Venice can right their wrongs without 
thanking native or foreign noble.” 

During the burst of applause which followed this 
boastful speech. Lord Henri and Sebastian left the 
audience-chamber. 

“ My faith he thinks himself a king already !” said 
Lord Henri, as they moved towards the entrance of the 
palace. “ Take care, friend Sebastian ; Salbano, once 
indeed ruler and master of Venice, will have no rivals 
to oppose his rule.” 

“ That is plain, my lord,” replied Sebastian. “ He is 
already jealous of me because the people couple my 
name with his as the deliverers of Venice, and com- 


The Mid7iight Pu7'sii{t. 


219 


pare our deeds of the day. But 1 am on my guard and 
have as many friends as he.” 

“ Thus it will be, Sebastian. If Salbano become 
absolute ruler, he will put his foot upon your head. 
See to it ! Mark my warning ! But it seems you are 
the servant of Salbano now and must conduct me from 
the city. Fie, man ! It is but a pretext to drive you 
from the audience-chamber — to have you out of the 
way while he swells and fumes.” 

“ True, my lord. It is to have me absent while he 
attacks the patricians before dawn. If he conquers, no 
one can then shout in his ears, ‘ Sebastian did this, and 
Salbano that !’ All will be — Salbano. But how about 
those mercenary troops of yours, my lord ?” 

“As I said. I came to Venice, as you know, to pos- 
sess the maiden, intending to carry her off secretly, hav- 
ing first made her my wife. The events of the day have 
baffled me, but my troops are within three days march 
of Venice. Had Salbano agreed, we might strike a blow 
which would convulse all Europe ; we might capture or 
slay the Emperor, who has so rashly placed himself in 
peril. Aid me, and I will aid you, Sebastian.” 

“ How, my lord ?” 

“ You and I, with a gondola and a rope-ladder, can 
carry off the niece of the Emperor.” 

“ Ah, is the lady so noble of birth ?” 

“ True. Would Henri de Bale meddle with her else ?” 

“Surely, my lord, she is marvellously beautiful. I 
thought it was her beauty that led you on. But I am 
at your service. The maiden in our power — what then ?” 

“ I will hasten to my forces and return to Venice. Do 
you, in the meantime, stir up opposition to Salbano, 
whom I hate ; and together we will crush this toad that 
pretends to be a lion. Prevent the attack until I return.” 


220 


The ExectUioner of Venice. 


“ Agreed, my lord. And now for carrying off the 
maiden,” 

Not long after this conversation, a gondola glided 
noiselessly into the canal which swept around the rear 
of the Anselmo palace. Unseen, unheard by the send- ■ 
nels, in the deep darkness of the night, it paused 
beneath the baloony of the apartment of the uncon- 
scious princess. 

The strong and experienced hand of the Assassin, 
whose eyes were accustomed to deeds of midnight 
villainy, tossed the hooks of the rope-ladder over the 
edge of the balcony. He was soon in the apartments ; 
and instantly gagged the helpless girl. 

Clasping her unresisting form to his breast with one 
arm, he speedily de^scended with his burden to the 
gondola ; and in a moment after it glided away as 
noiselessly as it had come. 

“ My lady,” whispered Lord Henri, as he held her in 
his arms, “ you are in the arms of your husband. Be 
motionless, and no harm shall befall you.” 

“ Great heaven !” thought the princess, as she heard 
these words, “ I am in the power of Henri de Bale. 
God deliver me !” 

“ My angel !” whispered the brutal lord, ‘‘ all is fair 
in love. Doubtless, you have now been told of your 
lofty birth, and that Donna Clara is Henri de Bale. I 
love you, and I am your husband. It is your fate. Be 
patient.” 

Scarcely able to breathe, the unhappy princess men- 
tally exclaimed : 

“ Alas ! it is a cruel fate. I am lost.” 



CHAPTER XXL 

AN ENCOUNTER IN THE DARKNESS. 

Under the guidance of Sebastian, the gondola soon 
left the Anselmo palace far behind and glided swiftly 
towards the land suburbs of the city. 

“ Be patient, my wife !’’ whispered Lord Henri, as 
Fiorina made some restless movement. “ You are mine, 
my wife. We shall soon be on the main land, where 
fleet horses await us to carry us far from this city of 
canals. In my Bavarian castle you will be my queen." 

He whispered much more, for he triumphed in his 
success ; and the fair cheeks of the pure maid burned 
with shame and indignation as he spoke of love and 
passion, and dwelt upon their future life in his castle in 
Bavaria. 

He taunted her with the disappointment which would 
crush the heart of the Admiral, when he should learn 
that Henri de Bale was the husband of the beautiful 
Fiorina. 

He jeered at the power of the great Emperor to 
punish him, and laughed at the agony of mind which 
would torture Lady Berthelda, who had spurned his 
love when she was a maiden like Fiorina. 

In the midst of his triumph, the gondola encountered 
another in the darkness. The collision was sudden and 

[ 221 ] 




222 


The Executioner of Vefiice, 


severe, so that Sebastian was thrown from his footing 
into the canal. 

Lord Henri sprang from the pavilion and rushed to 
the stern to seize the oar. But Sebastian had clutched 
it as he fell and carried it over with him. 

The assassin was perfectly at home in the water, and 
called out in a guarded tone : 

“ Steady ! I will soon be aboard.” 

But even as he spoke, a dark form, almost invisible 
in the night, sprang from the gondola which had caused 
his mishap, and grappled with Lord Henri, bearing him 
down upon the deck, while a voice called out : 

“ Your name ! Who is this ?” 

“ It is Robert ! It is the Admiral !” thought Fiorina, 
instantly recognizing the voice of her lover. 

Lord Henri, ignorant of the person and voice of the 
Admiral, replied : 

“ Why this outrage ? I am but a simple brazier on 
my way to my home.” 

“ Ha !” said a deep voice from some one in the 
strange gondola, “ fortune of France ! it is Henri de 
Bale himself. Beware his dagger-thrust. Count Robert; 
he is a deadly wasp.” 

Henri de Bale was prostrate on the narrow deck, and 
the knee of the Admiral was upon his breast ; but as he 
heard the words of the Emperor he made a desperate 
effort to free himself from his powerful foe. 

His dagger was out in an instant and thrust at the 
heart of the Admiral. The blade was shivered against 
the steel breast-plate it encountered ; and a single blow 
from the gauntleted fist of the Admiral crushed in the 
ribs of the effeminate noble. 

Lights, by this time, were produced ; and as the 
freshy-kindled torches sparkled from the Emperor’s 
gondola. Lord Henri was discovered, lying senseless 


An E7icotmter in the Darkness, 


223 


and breathing hard ; while Sebastian was seen swim- 
ming for the banks of the canal. 

An effort was made to catch him, but he escaped into 
the darkness, muttering : 

“ The abduction must have been discovered within 
ten minutes after we left the palace. Bah, it is fate !” 

Yes, it was fate — the fate which protects the innocent 
and baffles the guilty. 

The Admiral and Emperor had joined in the search 
for the stolen princess, and the hand of Fate had guided 
them unerringly to the gondola. Sebastian had lost 
much time in passing through the most deserted canals, 
while his pursuers had held straight on for the land 
suburbs, under the advice of old Rapal, who suspected 
that Henri de Bale would attempt to escape from Venice 
as soon as possible. 

Trembling for himself, the ex-executioner had volun- 
teered his aid against Henri de Bale. 

Fiorina was speedily released by her lover ; and 
seated by him in the pavilion, began to relate to him 
her many adventures of the day, while the gondola 
manned by a seaman, glided over the canals on its way 
to the Anselmo palace. 

But her adventures were not yet over. Balthazar and 
Sizera had not given up all hope of regaining their lost 
prey. 

Sizera had overheard the conversation of Sebastian 
and Lord Henri in the palace of Salbano, and she and 
Balthazar resolved to turn the matter to their own 
advantage. 

With a heavy barge and ten stout men they had 
lurked about the canals, hoping to effect the escape of 
Henri de Bale. The darkness and the noiselessness of 
Sebastian had baffled them, yet they still cruised about 


224 


The ExectiHoner of Venice. 


the city^ arresting every gondolier they chanced to 
meet. 

Their oars were muffled, so that their barge moved 
almost in silence until they saw two gondolas, with 
lights rapidly gliding towards them. 

“ They do not court concealment,'* muttered the 
vexed giantess, “ whoever they are.’* 

“ Still, we will do well to arrest them, if only to gain 
information,” replied Balthazar. “ Let us wait until 
they come up, and then challenge them. As for that, 
there may be a patrician spy there.” 

“ Wait until they come up. Push on and be over 
with the matter at once.” 

Balthazar ordered his crew to give way, arid the 
barge sped on to meet the two gondolas, which moved 
side by side, 'with torches flaring from their prows. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE FALL OF THE EXECUTIONER. 

Henri de Bale had been removed from the gondola 
in which he had received the terrible blow of the Ad- 
miral, to. the pavilion of the Emperor’s gondola. There 
he soon recovered his consciousness, and as he opened 
his eyes they met the glare of a lighted lamp swinging 
from the centre of the pavilion. ’ 

He did not fully appreciate his position until his 
bewildered stare recognized the stern face of the 
Emperor. 

“Ah, so I am lost !” he exclaimed, and closing his 
eyes. 


The Fall of the ExectUiofier. 


225 


“ Lo.st ? yes,” replied the Emperor, “ it is time, villain. 
For years your evil deeds have gone unpunished. But 
there is a ehance for your life.” 

“ A chance ? You mock me with deceitful promises.” 

“ No, Henri de Bale. Make a full confession of all 
that relates to the princess, and the axe of the headsman 
shall not fall upon your neck.” 

“ You will spare my life ?” 

“ Your life but not your liberty, false noble.” 

“ I demand in return for my confession, my liberty,” 
replied De Bale doggedly. 

” You shall have torture instead of liberty. Henri de 
Bale, when you were a duke and peer of France, you 
conspired to overthrow its monarch. Detected, you 
escaped to Bavaria, and there for years you have been a 
dastardly enemy. Think you that I, of all men, will 
restore you to freedom. Confess, or by St. Jude, within 
an hour your head shall be struck off.” 

“ Strike it off then, tyrant,” retorted the desperate 
noble. “ I am in horrible torment even now. Death 
will be a relief,” he added, as he groaned with anguish. 

“ So be it. I have offered you your life,” said the 
Emperor, and there the conversation ceased. 

Unseen by those in the barge of Sizera, more than a 
score of gondolas followed the torches of the Emperor. 
Before he left the Anselmo palace to seek for Fiorina, 
he had commanded all those whom he sent forth in the 
search to rally around any gondola which should show a 
torch, that being the signal either of danger or of suc- 
cess. 

Thus as the two gondolas glided towards the Anselmo 
palace, the many engaged in the search, seeing the 
torches, rapidly formed in their rear. 

A formidable force, therefore, was silently gliding 


226 


The Excmtioner of Venice. 


through the canal, and where Sizera expected an easy 
prey she found her fate. 

“ Now, Balthazar,” she said, as the two gondolas drew 
near, “ order them to halt.” 

“ Halt !” bellowed Balthazar. “ Halt, in the name of 
the people !” 

As the Admiral heard this voice he sprang from the 
pavilion, snatched the torch from the hand of the sea- 
man in the bows, and waved it around his head 
violently. 

In a moment scores of torches were flaming along the 
canal among the gondolas, and upon the pavements. 

“ Ah, we are in a trap !” yelled Balthazar. ‘‘ We are 
surrounded !” 

He and those in the barge made a desperate effort to 
change their course and retreat, but the swift com- 
mands of the Admiral, and the prompt obedience of 
his seamen, instantly swept a cordon of double boats 
around the barge. 

“ Yield, Balthazar,” thundered the Admiral as he 
boldly leaped into the barge, sword in hand. 

“ Mercy, my lord !” roared the cowardly giant, fall- 
ing into the posture of supplication. ‘‘ I yield, we all 
yield. Let all bear witness that I have struck no blow 
against the rights of the constituted authorities of 
Venice.” 

“ Bind the wretch and all who are with him. So, 
Sizera, you are here also.” 

“Yes, I am here, and T defy you as I defled you this 
morning,” screamed Sizera, struggling in vain against 
the cords which were cast about her. “ Rascals, I am 
the wife of Salbano, the Doge of the people ! Do you 
hear, curs of the sea — I am a princeSvS ” 

“ Ay, the empress of devils,” said a sailor as he drew 


7 he Fall of the ExecMtioner. 


227 


tight a loop around her elbows, and dodged a scratch 
from her claws. 

“ Salbano will have your blood for this outrage — 
mark that. I will know you all — mind that. Wait, and 
we will see !” 

Haste,” commanded the Admiral. “ There is an 
alarm.” 

As he spoke a trumpet sounded in the distance, and 
its startling blare was followed by that of others. The 
great bell of the ducal palace began to clamor loudly 
and rapidly, and in a moment a great roar as of shout- 
ing thousands swept over the city. 

“ A night attack ! Haste,” cried the Admiral. 

Ho ! Salbano will teach you how to treat his wife,” 
screamed Sizera. “ Dogs, he will cut your base throats.” 

“ Take that, and hold your accursed tongue,” said an 
enraged salt slapping his heavy palm upon her mouth. 
“ Ah, she devil, she has my hand in her teeth !” 

The vindictive giantess had snapped at his hand as he 
struck, and caught his fingers between her fangs. 

“ Ha !” growled Sizera, as she clung to her hold 
fiercely, how like you the bite of a she devil !” 

The enraged seaman, using his other hand, forced 
her jaws open with the handle of his knife, and bela- 
bored her severely in retaliation until checked by his 
comrades. 

“ Bah ! I defy you all !” cried the unsubdued hag, 
glaring hate and rage on all around. “ May the fiend 
take every man of you !” 

It was immediately evident that Salbano had precipi- 
tated a furious night attack upon the patricians, and 
one not to be despised. 

The skies began to redden with the glare of burning 
palaces ; the darkness of after-midnight was put to 
flight by raging and increasing flame ; the late stillness 


228 


'1 he Exectitioner of Venice, 


of the hour gave way to the blare of trumpets, rattling 
of drums, cries of warring men, and the terrible clamor 
of a battle at night. 

The many scouting parties of the patrician forces 
retreated in haste toward the Anselmo and ducal 
palaces, there to repulse the insurgent hosts. 

“ Close up !” thundered the Admiral as he glanced 
over his flotilla, which was already being assailed by 
missiles hurled from the houses on both sides of the 
canal. 

“ Rescue ! Rescue !” screamed Sizera. “ Rescue the 
wife of Salbano !” 

“ Ay, and the son of Salbano,” bellowed Balthazar. 

The little fleet sped on, and soon reached one of the 
quays of the Anselmo palace, where all hastily disem- 
barked. 

“ We have had a narrow escape, Count Robert,” said 
the Emperor, as they entered the palace. “ Nor can we 
say that we have yet escaped.” 

“ Not while Salbano lives,” replied the Admiral. 

Fiorina was soon in the eager embrace of her mother, 
and having seen her there her lover turned his attention 
to defeat the plans of the Executioner. 

Salbano had made his attack with no intention to be 
thwarted by chance. 

He had divided his host into three bodies, which made 
their advance against the patricians almost simul- 
taneously. One body was hurled upon the ducal palace, 
another upon the Anselmo palace, and the third, led by 
the Executioner, upon the strong line of communication 
between the two palaces. 

As these bodies advanced they fired every palace in 
their line of march, so that the whole city soon 
appeared to be in flames. 

The patrician line of communication between the 


The Fall of the Executioner. 


229 


two palaces was soon broken by the fierce onset of 
Salbano, who then divided his forces into two bodies, 
one to reinforce the host already assailing the ducal 
palace, and the other, under his command, to assist 
those swarming around the Anselmo. 

The infuriated populace rushed upon the troops of 
the Emperor expecting to overwhelm them in a 
moment, but recoiled in dismay as these soldiers, the 
choicest veterans of the great Charlemagne, mowed 
down by hundreds their disorderly foes. 

The Emperor in person, supported by his nobles, 
men famous in war, defended the main piazza, and as 
the repulsed insurgents gazed upon that resolute array 
of lances and steel-clad men, they saw that no easy 
work was before them. 

They swept around the palace to its rear and 
attempted to effect an entrance there in vain, for there 
they were met by the Admiral, whose terrible battle- 
axe and veteran seamen beat them back with fearful 
loss. 

‘‘We will roast them like crabs in a pot,” said Sal- 
bano, as he saw the defeat of his onset. 

By his command a storm of lighted torches was 
hurled at the palaces. Thousands on thousands of 
flaming brands flew through the air and fell upon the 
defenders of the palace, while the buildings for squares 
around were given to the torch. 

The heat became intense, though the soldiers pro- 
tected the great edifice from conflagration by fierce 
exertions. 

“ At them again !” commanded Salbano. “ The ducal 
palace is in the hands of the people !” 

“ He lies !” cried a voice in the rear of the Execu- 
tioner. “ The patricians have defeated the people at 


230 


The Exec7itioner of Venice. 


the ducal palace and are advancing to aid their friends. 
Down with Salbano !” 

The cry was taken up by so many that the Execu- 
tioner paused to confront this unexpected attack in his 
rear. 

“Ah, this is the treachery of the butchers,” cried 
Salbano, as he saw a large force rushing towards him. 
“ Crush the vipers !” 

The butchers of Venice were not few in number, and 
their jealousy and hostility had been aroused by the 
execution of one of their number, as we have related. 
The brother of the murdered man had not been idle 
during the day, and had secretly organized his 
fellow-craftsmen into a conspiracy against the Execu- 
tioner. 

All day they had held themselves aloof and ready to 
assail Salbano, if opportunity should offer. 

The opportunity had arrived. The force sent against 
the ducal palace had been repulsed, attacked and routed. 

Signor Marco, Admiral Chaoza and other noted 
leaders were hastening to the relief of the Anselmo 
palace, and the butchers resolved to display their loyalty 
since the star of Salbano seemed falling. 

“Down with Salbano !” they cried. “ Long live the 
noble Doge Anselmo !” 

“ Treachery ! Crush the cowardly traitors !” retorted 
the Executioner, as he charged boldly into the ranks of 
his new enemies. 

He scattered them like chaff, and they fled in a panic. 
But the populace, bewildered by this outbreak, became 
unsettled in their purpose, and lost much time in use- 
less recrimination. 

The trumpets of Signor Marco’s forces advancing 
rapidly from the ducal palace were answered by those 
of the Emperor, and immediately afterward the serried 


The Fall of the Executioner. 


231 


ranks of the well-armed Franks charged downthebroad 
steps of the Anselmo palace and fell fiercely upon the 
insurgents. 

The struggle was terrible for a short time, until Sig- 
nor Marco joined in the battle, when the insurgents gave 
way and fled. 

Salbano was struck down by Admiral Robert, bound 
and carried into the palace. 

He was placed in a dungeon where he was surprised 
to find Sizera, Balthazar and Fra Bartolo. 

Sizera was defiant still, but as she saw her husband 
brought in a prisoner her courage sank. 

“What! Is all lost?” 

“ Ay ! The people are defeated. All is over with us, 
Sizera,” replied Salbano, sullenly. 

“ I have not raised my hand against the State,” 
whined Balthazar. “ I do not think the noble signors 
will harm me.” 

“ Silence, coward, and die like a man,” said Salbano. 
“ Do you imagine that Admiral Robert or the Emperor 
will forgive you for pursuing Fiorina ?” 

“ But I thought she was of us. I meant no harm ; 
I ” 

“ Bah ! We are all lost, and so there is an end of it.” 

“ Ho ! my dear children !” croaked the cracked voice 
of old Rapal at the grating of the dungeon. “ Is it well 
with you in there ?” 

Looking up, the prisoners beheld the horrible face of 
the old man illuminated by the lamp he held. 

“ So, is that you, father Rapal ?” said Salbano. “ How 
is it that you are free ?” 

“ My dears, I have turned State’s evidence.” 

“ Oh, villain !” 

“ Cowardly wretch 

“ My darling Sizera,” replied Rapal, grinning through 


232 


The Executioner of Ve7iice. 


the bars at her, “ I feel for you — ’pon my word I do. I 
weep for you. You have been so kind to me, you and 
Balthazar, especially to-day when you saw me stabbed, 
eh } It was very" kind in you. Hi-hi ! Sizera congrat- 
ulate me.” 

‘‘ Congratulate you — for what, old coward ?” 

“ For my luck. The noble signors have restored me 
to my old office. I am again Chief Executioher of Ven- 
ice. There is a bounteous season in view — a precious 
season. It seems that Signor Gaspola attempted to 
resist the order of banishment, and the noble signors 
have ordered him to be beheaded on the morrow, in the 
great sqnare. Then there is old Signor Duella, the 
patrician miser ; you know he aided Signor Gaspola 
against Signor Anselmo — it was Duella, you know, who 
brought Admiral Robert to us when he was an infant.” 

“ What of that ?” 

“ Why, it seems he treated Lady Marie very brutally, 
so the Emperor and the Admiral say he must have his 
head cut off. That’s pleasant — oh, it is elegant !” said 
Rapal, rubbing his sharp nose against the grating and 
chuckling. 

“ I am equal to it, my dears, I assure you. It is 
delightful in our old age to be thus blessed. That’s 
two — eh } But there’s more. There’s some precious 
flogging and hanging to be done — eh ?” 

The old wretch, delighted to taunt the prisoners, 
paused and leered at each in turn. 

“ Old devil, go away !” screamed Sizera. 

“ I can’t really. I am sorry I must do as I am told, 
my dear Sizera. My dream is to be made fact. You 
are to be scourged before the people. You need not 
tell me to lay it on lightly, for I won’t do it. It would 
hurt my feelings to do it, my dear. After being well 
scourged, you are to be hanged.” 


The Fall of the Executioner. 


233 


‘■Hanged ! Ah, that accursed rope which fell upon 
my neck !” cried Sizera. 

“ Balthazar, my lad !” 

“Oh, they won't hurt a poor fellow like me, father 
Rapal. Indeed, I know they won’t have the heart to 
hurt poor harmless Balthazar,” whined the trembling 
villain, as he crawled on his knees toward the grating. 
“ I never raised my hand against the State, did I I 
was only doing a little business of my own. I am ready 
and anxious to apologize. I will apologize to the great 
Admiral, too — I will, really. Tell him I will do any- 
thing he asks to make it all right.” 

“ Balthazar, my boy ” 

“ Oh, don’t go to say that they will hurt me, father 
Rapal, — a poor, inoffensive lad like me. I’ll apologize.” 

“ Apologies won’t swim, my boy. First, you are to 
be scourged.” 

“ Oh, lay it on easy, father Rapal, lay it on easy, and 
I ‘11 be your slave all the rest of my days.” 

“ My lad, the rest of your days will be very few, since 
you are to be hanged right after the scourging. ’Pon 
my word, Balthazar, I’ll hang you as easy as I can— 
really. I’ll take delight in doing it neatly and pleasantly. 
But hanged you must be.” 

Balthazar howled and beat his great ugly head 
against the floor, until Salbano kicked him in the ribs, 
saying : 

“ Cowardly cur ! you are no son of mine or you would 
die like a man.” 

“ Salbano, it does my heart good to see you take it so 
bravely. But who is that so mute in the corner?” 

“It is Fra Bartolo,” replied Salbano “ But tell me 
what they are going to do with me.” 

“ First let me tell Fra Bartolo. Bartolo, it has been 
discovered that you have been a very bad man.” 


234 


The Executioiiei' of Venice, 


“Silence, vain old man. Your republic dares not 
harm a servant of the Holy Church,” replied the friar, 
calmly. “ For the outrage already put upon me Venice 
shall apologize to Rome.” 

“ My dear Bartolo, there is an order in the hands of 
the Emperor from the Pope, which excommunicates, 
anathemizes, and gives you over, head and heels to the 
Emperor. I feel for you, as he has remanded you for 
punishment to the officers of the Church in Venice, and 
I shall not have the pleasure of attending to you. It 
has been decided by the council of bivshops that you are 
to be publicly degraded from your priestly powers and 
then burned alive.” 

The villainous friar shuddered, but made no reply. 
He had hoped that the power of the Church would 
be exerted in his behalf, and behold the power of the 
Church was to destroy him. 

“ There is another to be beheaded,” said Rapal, 
smacking his lips and lolling out his tongue. 

“Ay — me !” exclaimedSalbano. “ What care I ? All 
must die, sooner or later.” 

“ My impatient lad,” exclaimed old Rapal, “ I mean 
Henri de Bale. I am equal to the recreation. He is 
to be done for to-morrow, or, as it is past midnight, he 
is to be done for to-day. I am truly thankful for this 
bounteous season, 1 am.” 

“ But me ? what are they going to do with me, 
Rapal ?” 

“ How very impatient he is,” said Rapal, leisurely 
trimming his lamp. “ There is a lady, the sister of Henri 
de Bale, Louise de Verre — you know her. Fra Bartolo, 
since she and you were arrested together.” 

“ What of her ?” demanded the friar. 

“ She is to be sent to a nunnery, there to pass the 


Conchtsion. 


235 


remainder of her days in a dungeon. Ho ! I nearly for- 
got to tell you that Sebastion Peon ” 

“ Aye, what of him ?” interrupted the Executioner. 

He is to be broken on the wheel and then hanged. 
He was captured by an old servitor of the Doge — one 
Antonio Delota.” 

“ Well, what of me ?” demanded the Executioner. 

“ You know the noble signors are very angry, especi- 
ally as many of their number have fallen ” 

“ Aye, and would that I could have slain every one ! 
Curses seize them all.” 

“ Don’t be violent, Salbano. Save your wind, my boy, 
for what is before you. Much property has been 
destroyed by your command, and Signor Marco is very 
angry because of the indignities you heaped upon his 
aunt, Donna Isabella, who was implacable in lier rage. 
You have seen the torture chamber ?” 

“ Fool ! I know every instrument in it.” 

“ No you don’t, my lad. You have tried them on 
others, but you have never had them tried on you. You 
are to undergo torture ordinary and torture extraordi- 
nary. Torture of water, fire, and every other, if it takes 
a week for you to make the rounds.” 

“ What, all ? The rack, the boots, the thumb-screw, 
the press, the pulleys, the ” 

“ All, my lad ; so I will leave you to think it over, as 
I need a little sleep. It is delightful, for -there are a 
score of common fellows to be hanged. Good night.” 

With these words the chuckling old monster departed. 


CONCLUSION. 

The dawn of the following day found Venice wholly 
in the power of the patricians ; and as the day advanced 


236 


The Executioner of Venice. 


the Doge issued another proclamation which restored 
peace. 

Then followed the punishment of those who were 
condemned. 

A week passed before all had expired beneath the 
hands of Rapal, and Salbano was the last to die. He 
passed through all that had been threatened by Rapal, 
and finally died a mass of bruised flesh and broken 
bones — so terrible were the judicial punishments of 
Venice. 

Sizera died defiant to the last, and Balthazar howled 
for mercy. 

Old Rapal, having seen the end of Salbano, the last 
of the condemned, was surprised to find himself arrested, 
and ordered to be hanged. 

His indignation Was intense, and his terror boundless, 
but he was bound and publicly hanged, his last words 
being : 

“ What says the law ?” 

One year after the death of Rapal, Admiral Robert 
and his noble wife, the Princess Fiorina, seated in the 
pavilion of their beautiful gondola, spoke of the scenes 
which we have described. 

“ It was a fearful day, my Fiorina,” said the Admiral, 
“ but all is peace now. The mild and generous rule of 
my noble father, satisfies both the people and the 
patricians. The destroyed palaces are restored, and 
Venice is prosperous.” 

“Yes ; and our mother. Lady Marie, how happy she 
is now that the Doge has regained his strength, health 
and noble form,” replied Fiorina. 

“You leave out that which most of all makes my 
mother happy,” said the Admiral. “The Doge has 
regained his sight. Anselmo di Parmetta is blind no 
more.” 


Conclusion. 


237 


It was true. The sight of Anselmo gradually returned 
with his restoration to health, and in the stately, erect 
person and noble features of the Doge, none could have 
recognized the emaciated prisoner of the ducal dun- 
geons. 

Donna Janetta became the wife of her old lover, 
Antonio, and the old couple afforded much amusement 
to their friends by their wild rejoicings over an infant 
which in time blessed their tardy union. 

Charlemagne, with Lady Berthelda, returned to 
France, and ere his death, which happened many years 
after, he heard with pleasure that the decease of the 
Doge Anselmo, was followed by the election of Admii'al 
Robert to the princely throne of Venice. 

Happy in their union, Robert and Fiorina made the 
journey of life hand in hand and heart to heart. 


THE END. 


The Breach of Custom 


TRANSLATED KROM THE GERMAN 


BY 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey 


WITH CHOICE ILLUSTRATIONS BY O. IF. SIMONS 


Paper Cover, 60 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 


This is a translation of an interesting and beautiful German 
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most pathetic circumstances and situations. The heroine is an 
ideal character. Her self-sacrifice is noble and exalted, and the 
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one who reads this book will feel that it is one which will be a 
life influence. Few German stories have more movement or are 
more interesting. There are great variety and charm in the 
characters and situations. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS., Publishers, 

182 William Street, New York. 


MRS. HAROLD STAGG 


A NOVEL. 


BY 

FiOBERT Grant, 

Author of “Jack Hall,” etc. 


Beautifully, Illustrated by Harry C. Edwards. Paper Cover, 60 
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story is told with the amusing and quiet cleverness which has 
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maniacs,” it places its heroine under a cross-fire from a wealthy 
swell and a talented youth to fame and fortune unknown — a 
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very interesting and unselfish type of the young American 
woman. In despite of the satire of which Mrs. Harold Stagg is 
the object, every man will like that lady for herself, even thoug> 
he may not be as blindly devoted as her husband. 


A CAIMTAl, AMERICAN STORY. 


UNDER A CLOUD. 

BY JEAN KATE LUDLUM, 

Author of “ Under Oath*^ etc^ 


ILLUSTRATED BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 

I2mo. 300 Pag-es. With Ntuneroiis Rltistratioiis. Handsomely 
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It was once asked by a celebrated Englishman : “ Who reads 
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A Story of a Strange Disappearance. 


WAS SHE WIFE OR WIDOW? 


BY 

MALCOLM BELL. 


WITH ILLVSTRATIONS BY F. A. CARTER. 


12mo. 318 Fag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

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ZINA’S AWAKING 


21 Jfox)el. 


BY 

MRS. J. KENT SPENDER. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


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The story is a study of a girl struggling upward through times 
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to a scoundrel, Mrs. Spender has drawn a picture of what would 
appear to make a soul’s resistance against such odds impossible, 
yet the heroine is saved by her art, and reaches light at last. — 
Lo7idon Newspaper Review. 

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GLORIA 


a Nonel. 

BY 

MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH, 

Ajithor of “ The Hiddefi Haiidf “ The Unloved Wifef 
Lilith f Unknown^ “A Leap m the Darkf 

Nearest a7id Dearest f For IVoman’s 

Lovef The Lost Lady of Lonef 
David Lindsay f etc.^ etc, 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY f A. CARTER. 


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novels have a larger circulation among the people than those 
of any other American writer. She has the gift of making her 
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to take up another. 

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THE TWO HUSBANDS; 

OR, 

BURIED SECRETS. 


BY 

MRS. HARRIET- LEWIS. 


Author of Her Double Lifef Lady Kildare f Eddd*s 

Birthright f BeryVs Husband f etc.' 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. A. CARTER. 


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This is one of the most interesting of Mrs. Lewis’s novels. It 
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There is a plot and strong situations, and abundance of incident 
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Two Husbands.” 

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LIDA CAMPBELL, 

OR 

DRAMA OF A LIFE. 

a Nooel. 


BY 

JEAN KATE LUDLUM, 

Author of “ Under Oathf “ Under a Cloud f John Win- 

throfs Defeatf^ etc. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. M. EATON. 


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This beautiful story was writt^one year ago. Even then the 
author had premonitory symptoms of the fell disease which so 
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The emotional power which is a marked characteristic of Miss 
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most casual reader cannot fail to be intensely interested in it. 

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EUGENIE GRANDET 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 


Honore De Balzac. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JAMES FAGAN. 


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“ Eugenie Grandet” is one of the greatest of novels. It is the 
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Another New Novel by Miss Libbey. 


FLORABEL’S LOVER. 


BY 

LAURA JEAN LIBBEY, 

Author of “A Mad Betrothal Parted by Fatef' 
I'Ve Parted at the Attar,” etc., etc. 


BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED BY F. A. CARTER. 


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Florabel’s Lover ” is a story of rival belles in a country vil- 
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Whatever criticism may say of Miss Libbey’s literary abilities, 
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majority of American readers. Her stories deal with the charac- 
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with all the force of nature and truth to the heart. “ Florabel’s 
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any effort to understand it ; and once begun, it holds the reader’s 
interest to the end. 

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ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE COUNTRY DOCTOR 


3 K'odcI. 

BY 

HONORE DE BALZAC, 

Author of Cesar Birotteauf The Alchemist f “ Cousm 
Ponsf Eugenie Grandetf etc.^ etc. 

Translated from the French by Mrs. Fred. M. Dey. 

TTJTfl' ILLVSTTtATIONS BY WABRBN B . DAVIS . 

12mo. 350 Pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


'‘The Country Doctor” is one of Balzac’s greatest creations. 
It is the portrait of an ideal man in a situation where superior 
ability and knowledge enable him to raise a whole community to 
a higher level of morality, prosperity and intelligence. It is a 
study in social science far more valuable than dull treatises and 
histories of social experiments. It is full of human interest and 
feeling and that wonderful realism which makes all of Balzac’s 
works like veritable stories of real life. The heroine is a creature 
of rare beauty and charm. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, post- 
paid, On receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

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COUSIN PONS 


TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF 


HONORE DE BALZAC. 


12mo. 439 Pages. With Twelve Beautiful and Characteristic 

Illustrations by Whitney. Handsomely Botind in Cloth, Price, 
$1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Cousin Pons is one of the most interesting characters in the 
whole range of Balzac’s wonderful creations. Balzac penetrated 
human nature to its depth. There is scarcely a type which 
evaded his keen eye. His characters are types of the living, 
human world swarming at his feet. His creations are as real as 
noble peaks standing out against an evening sky. In every one 
of Balzac’s novels there is a great human lesson. There is not a 
volume you can open which does not set forth some deep human 
truth by means of characterizations so vivid that they seem to 
breathe. So it is with “Cousin Pons.” After reading it we 
think of him not as a character in a novel, but as a personage — a 
sweet and true soul — a simple enthusiast for art and beauty at 
the mercy of selfish and vulgar harpies. 


A SON OF OLD HARRY. 

21 Nouel. 


BY 

ALBION W. TOURGEE, 


Author of A FooPs Errand f Bricks Without Straw f 

Figs and Thistles f Hot Plowshares f etc. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


12mo. Handsomely Bound in Cloth Price, $1.60. 


Judge Tourgee gives to his admirers fresh cause of rejoicing, 
in his new novel, “ A Son of Old Harry.” Nothing more origi- 
nal and more true to life and nature has ever appeared in America 
than this story of the Kentucky blue-grass region and its horses 
and horse-loving people. No reader of his novels needs to be 
told that Judge Tourgee loves a horse. His horses are some- 
thing more than mere incidents or furniture ; they are actual 
characters, and so linked with the personality and fortunes of his 
people that they are essential to the action and development ol 
the novel. In ‘‘A Son of Old Harry,” he has given a free rein 
to his pen in dealing with a subject so near his heart. It contains 
the best that he has to give on the subject. The sweet and pure 
love history, which forms the groundwork, and the thrilling inci- 
dents of the war in Kentucky, which form an important part, 
give the novel immense interest. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

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WIFE AND WOMAN; 

OR, 

A TANGLED SKEIN. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 

L. Haidheim. 

By MARY J. SAFFORD. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F- A. CARTER. 

I2mo. Beautifully Illustrated. Handsomely Bound In Cloth, 
* Price, $1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


** A thoroughly good society novel.” This is the verdict of a 
bright woman after reading this story. It belongs to the Marlitt 
school of society novels, and the author is a favored contributor 
to the best periodicals of Germany. It has a good plot, an 
abundance of incident, very well drawn characters and a good 
ending. There is no more delightful story for a summer holiday. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York 


THE NORTHERN LIGHT 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 


E. WERNER, 


BY 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey. 


12mo. 373 Pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth, Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


Since the death of the author of “Old Ma’mselle’s Secret,” 
Werner is the most popular of living German writers. Her 
novels are written with great literary ability, and possess the 
charm of varied character, incident and scenery. “ The Northern 
Light ” is one of her most characteristic stories. The heroine is 
a woman of great beauty and strength of individuality. No less 
interesting is the young poet who, from beginning to end, con- 
stantly piques the curiosity of the reader. 

F or sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


TRUE DAUGHTER 

OF HARTENSTEIN. 

a Nomi. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 

BY MARY J. SAFFORD, 

Translator of “ Wife a7id Womafif Little Heather-Blossotnf 
“ True Daughter of Hartensteinf etc.^ etc. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


12mo. 350 Fag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


Miss Safford’s translations from the German are invariably in 
teresting. All who have read “ Little Heather-Blossom ” will be 
delighted with this exquisite companion story. The heroine pos- 
sesses every charming attribute of rare womanhood, in whom 
love is always the predominating motive. The scenes and cir- 
cumstances are new and strange, and the course of the story 
passes from one interesting situation to another, so that the read- 
er’s interest is never relaxed. This novel takes us out of the 
groove of every-day life, and introduces us to scenes and charac- 
ters altogether fresh and original. The weird and prophetic 
gypsy character gives it a touch of mystery. It is altogether a 
most perfect and delightful story. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, post- 
paid, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE IMPROVISATORE; 

OR, 

LIFE IN ITALY. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH* OF 

Hans Christian Andersen. 

By MARY HOWITT. 

ILLUSTRATED BY BARRY O, EDWARDS, 


12mo. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is an entrancing romance dealing with the classic scenes 
of Italy. To those who desire to behold with their own eyes 
those scenes, it will create a fresh spring of sentiment, and fill 
them with unspeakable longing. To those who have visited the 
fair and memory-haunted towers and towns of Florence, Rome 
and Naples, it will revive their enthusiasm and refresh their 
knowledge. Andersen published this novel immediately after 
his return from Italy, and it created an extraordinary effect. 
Those who had depreciated the author’s talent came forward 
voluntarily and offered him their homage. It is a work of such 
singular originality and beauty that no analysis or description 
could do it justice, and the universal admiration which it at once 
excited has caused it to be read and reread throughout the world. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE LITTLE COUNTESS 


BY 

E. VON DINCKLAGE, 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 


By S. E. BOGGS. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


12mo. 318 Fa^es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 

The Little Countess” is a delightful novel. It is full of life 
and movement, and, in this respect, is superior to most transla- 
tions from the German. It is distinctly a story to be read for 
pure enjoyment. The little countess belongs to an ancient and 
noble family. She is left an orphan in a lonely old castle, with a 
few servants and pets. Her heroic temper sustains her in every 
trial. The part played by an American girl in the story is very 
amusing, and shows what queer ideas are entertained of American 
women by some German novelists. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

COR. William and Spruce Streets, New Vork. 


REUNITED 


k STORY OF THE CIVIL WAR. 


BY A POPULAR SOUTHERN AUTHOR. 

c 


Illustrated by F. A. Carter. 


Handsomely Decorated Paper Cover, Price, 60 Cents. Boxind 
in Cloth, Price, $1.00. 


This is a splendid novel of the late War. It deals with the 
armies and their operations on both sides and shows the feelings 
of brothers who crossed swords in the conflict. The main theatre 
of the incidents is the State of Kentucky and the famous blue- 
grass region celebrated for its beautiful women, its fine horses 
and its more widely known Bourbon whiskey. There is a brisk 
movement in the novel, in keeping with scouting, marching and 
cavalry charging. The author was a soldier, and he has crowded 
his pages with adventures and stories of camp-life, which have 
great interest, and charm one by their truth to nature. Rarely 
has any great crisis produced more heroic spirits than the War 
for the Union. They fought and bled on both sides of the line, 
and this novel commemorates their valor, and shows how true 
hearts were reunited at the end of the struggle, and that peace 
brought more than mere cessation from strife. This is a novel 
which appeals to every one. 


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42. -AN INSIGNIFICANT WOMAN. 

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44. -M ADEMOl SELLE DESROCHES. 

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